Life Interrupted
by October Sky
Summary: They escaped the Others, but now they have to deal with an interrupted life, where things have changed more than they could have ever imagined. Post finale. Jate, Skate.
1. Special

Life Interrupted

Chapter One

Title: Life Interrupted

Paring: Jate/Skate

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping themes; possible mentions of drug use and suicide

Summary: Post-season two finale. Full summary given out in chapter two.

Spoilers: Season-two, ask if there's anything specifically you're worried about.

Disclaimer: _Lost_ belongs to J.J. Abrams and co. at ABC. Full disclaimer given out at the end, as to not spoil anything.

Author's Note: This is a project I've been planning for months. I planned to begin it after I finished my series, Fated, but I changed my mind. However, I still have to finished the last story of the series, "In the End", and then I still have On An Island to think about, so updates may not come frequently for awhile. But don't worry. I have huge plans for this story, so it won't be forgotten.

**Chapter One:** Special

The man's name was Tom. Tom Friendly. And they weren't exactly on the best of terms. It was like she was a personal burden to him; he'd frown upon anything she did. Even if it's what they wanted her to do in the first place. So right off, she knew that it was 'Mr. Friendly' who had stepped into the room, the creak of the door sliding open in a painful way. But she was used to the sound by now. The difference was, Alex was always on the other side of the bars. Into the room stepped a man, grinning. As though he won the jackpot.

"So why'd you do it?"

Alex didn't answer, simply because she knew it wouldn't be the answer he wanted. So instead she remained quiet, attempting to ignore the heat that was coming through, instead of air. It was the only room in the facility without air conditioning. Now Alex realized that this was on purpose. It wasn't that the Others, as they learned their nickname was amongst the islanders, were particularly evil, it was just that they liked control. And they'd do whatever it took to gain it.

"Why'd you help them escape?"

The room wasn't a complete cell, but there were bars that could be put in, were there to be any...complications. And the bars had been put in.

"You wouldn't understand," Alex mumbled under her breath.

But Tom always had this eerie way of hearing the slightest of sounds, which came in handy when it came to holding captives. He'd become a pro. Alex, on the other hand, always looked like an amature compared to the main 'Others'- whose true names she could never really know. Always standing to the side, she appeared as a mere outcast. And truthfully, she was. She couldn't say she agreed with what they did, but Alex also couldn't say that she would so easily turn her back on them. Luckily, she knew them too well anyway. She knew their beliefs, their way of life. What made them tick. Somehow, this hadn't helped her. But, in the end, she had helped them escape.

"Oh, I wouldn't understand," Tom repeated mockingly, laughing to himself. Suddenly he grabbed onto the bars, face turned red with an anger so intense that it seemed to shake the room. "You just let two of our best captives get away!" He bellowed, the bars seeming to shake as he held onto him. Personally, Alex had never seen the bars actually go down in the room. She wondered how sturdy they were.

"That's all you care about," Alex spat, "your _test subjects_."

His face growing stern, Alex fought to remember a time when he had been this angry at her.

"These two weren't just test subjects!" Tom shouted. Suddenly he grew calm, as if his anger had eased away. "You have no idea what you just did."

Closing his eyes, Tom actually looked...defeated. It was what led her into her silence, watching as he rested his head against the fake bars.

"Just tell me why you did what you did," he muttered, "we don't want to keep you in here."

Before she could consider the consequences, Alex found herself jumping to her feet, facing Tom with her own anger.

"You don't give a damn about me," she growled, "you never did. And if you hurt me, I'll scream."

She grinned, because she knew that was exactly what Tom _didn't_ want to hear. And it wasn't. The bars slid away so suddenly that Alex couldn't catch how they were operated. But before she could react, Alex was grabbed roughly by her shoulders and slammed against the nearest wall.

"You draw too much attention to yourself, Alex," Tom smirked angrily. Without warning he pulled a hand back, smacking his palm against her cheek with an effort that made her gasp in pain, red dots of blood already appearing on her skin. "Maybe you'll learn to stop taking risk."

Alex closed her eyes tightly, biting her lip in effort to hold back the pain. Luckily for Alex, she did know what would send him over the edge. The one thing that she had over Tom, and not only on a personality level, but on a level of acceptance with the rest of the crew. Slowly she turned towards him, lips turning up in a mischievous grin.

"They'll kill you before they kill me."

Tom smirked, as though he had expected this. And he probably had. It was the one argument she had on her, but it had its truth.

"Right," Tom snorted, "because you're _special_."

Alex grinned.

"More than you."

He didn't respond. Instead she was shoved back further into the room, and the bars appeared again.

"Maybe your friend will come back for you," he said with sarcastic reassurance.

Alex's eyes widened. For a split second she felt betrayed, realizing that no one but Tom had come for her, but then she began to wonder why. Worry about why.

"Don't hurt him!" Alex pleaded. She didn't care how pathetic she sounded. Now her mind was reeling, realizing all the consequences of what she had done. Had they even gotten free? She didn't even know if her plan worked...

"Oh, we won't," Tom smirked, a set of keys appearing in his hands as he stepped out of the room, closing the door with a loud creak behind him.

Before, she hadn't cared about being locked up in here. They wouldn't hurt her. Eventually, she'd be set free. But while she was an outcast amongst the 'main' leaders of their group, Alex seemed to make friends with the wrong people- at least she did in their eyes. While they couldn't do anything than her, it didn't stop them from going after someone else, someone completely innocent. Because her escape plan had been her own, and while it couldn't work for her, she could only pray it worked for the other two.

(space)

Sun's loud screams echoed throughout the hatch. The only thing they had to be happy about was that Aaron wasn't down here to mix in with the cries, as selfish as that sounded. Crowded around her in a small, half-circle, Kate, Sawyer, Charlie, and Jin tried their best to calm Sun down, all the while with Jin muttering something to her in Korean. He looked pale, sick even, but they didn't ask. After all, how calm could they expect him to be when his wife was going through labor?

"Maybe if we could just hold it off!" Kate exclaimed over Sun's screams. Her heart pounded in her chest, head spinning at the fast-pace, non-stop drama from the past few hours.

"Hold it off?" Sawyer snapped back to her. "What the hell do you want to do, stick a pillow through there?"

Bringing her hands to her head, Kate fought to remember back to their first day on the island. There had been something Jack had taught her, some kind of trick to dealing with stress. Something about counting...

"Kate!" Sun cried, tears streaming down her face as she clutched Jin's hand, his bones whitening at the effort.

Kate squeezed her eyes shut tightly, shaking her head, at Sun's side in seconds. Now wasn't the time. She had to do this. Of anything, she had to do this for Jack.

"We're going to get you help, Sun," Kate promised, rubbing Sun's back reassuringly.

Hair glued to the sweat on her face, Sun could only nod, though Kate couldn't be sure she even heard her. Unlike Claire's pregnancy, Sun's labor had come on so suddenly. Claire admitted that she'd been feeling signs of the baby coming throughout the day, but Sun swore that she felt no such signs.

"What the hell are you expecting?" Sawyer hardly ever shouted at her, but now he didn't bother holding back. No one but Kate felt taken aback at this; Charlie even agreed with him.

"It's not like Jack's just going to waltz through!" Charlie exclaimed, placing a soaked towel over Sun's forehead to try and cool her down.

As if answering him, the hatch door clicked from nearby, and the three of them turned, staring. No one ever came down here anymore, not even Locke. But Kate stopped when the one person they truly hadn't been expecting stepped in: Jack. Gasping in efforts to keep breathing, Kate felt a pit form in her stomach, feeling an aching sickness roar through her. She wanted to look for Sawyer for a reaction, but she felt frozen. Even Sun's screams of pain seemed faded and distant.

But Jack seemed to be in a whole different manner. He looked _happy_. Without a care in the world, Jack closed the hatch door behind him, stopping when he turned to see the stunned faces watching him.

"What?" He asked, puzzled.

Kate could feel Sawyer's eyes on her before she turned around, though looking at the ground, not at him.

"I'll talk to him," Kate whispered, brushing Sawyer's arm as she walked to Jack.

She felt like she was walking into a dark tunnel, going deeper and deeper to try and find a way out, only to find more darkness ahead of her. Too soon she found herself in front of him, Jack studying her, confused with a goofy smile on his face. Like he was waiting for a punch-line to be revealed.

"What?" He said again, this time more amused than puzzled.

Swallowing, Kate knew she wouldn't have the time she wanted to answer. She looked down at his hand, contemplating taking it. Finally, Kate decided against it. She didn't want to scare him away.

"Do you remember the day at the dock?" Kate began quietly, making sure that only Jack could hear her, though there was no doubt they were being listened in on.

Jack nodded.

"Yeah," he said, "of course. The Others, they-"

Before he could continue, Kate interrupted. Being messenger made her feel like the devil, like she was delivering a message of death.

"We escaped," Kate cut in. His dancing eyes finally met hers, growing dark and confused.

"No we didn't," Jack protested. He looked like someone who was stumped at a problem, incredulously confused.

"Sawyer and I escaped," Kate corrected quietly. She took a deep breath, looking down before daring to meet his eyes again. "Jack...that was nine months ago. You've been missing ever since."

**Disclaimer:** Bet you can't guess where I got this idea. Okay, so if you've never seen _Alias_, you probably wouldn't know. This story was inspired by, and roughly based on(**warning for Alias season two finale**) the _Alias_ season two cliffhanger of the episode "The Telling". The title of this fic was inspired _The 4400_ episode "Life Interrupted."


	2. Welcoming Party

Life Interrupted

Chapter Two

**Chapter Two:** Welcoming Party

_"That was nine months ago..."_

She didn't need Jack to tell her that he had no clue of what she was saying. She also didn't need him to tell her he didn't believe her.

"Sawyer and I escaped," Kate began again, swallowing, as though the memory were painful to her, "they had you. That was nine months ago."

He only stared at her. Incredulous, Jack let out a laugh, too stunned for words. Kate looked away, mind racing.

"No it wasn't," Jack finally said, attempting to smile, as if that would change things.

Behind her, Kate could still hear Sun's screams of pain.

"Look around, Jack!" Kate cried. "Look at Sun!"

Jack took a moment to look behind her, his presence changing completly upon seeing Sun. She wondered if he hadn't noticed her while walking in...but how could he not? Not to mention the hatch's interior itself had changed; surely Jack would notice that in time. But before she could retaliate, Jack was rushing towards Sun, sitting down at her feet.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sawyer demanded, snapped out of his own riveri.

Looking up at him, Jack briefly met eyes with Sawyer.

"I'm delivering a baby," he replied, determined.

For a moment Sun stopped screaming, watching Jack, hope dancing across her face as he began to ask her a list of questions.

"Don't you think you should wash your hands first?" Sawyer snapped back with sarcastic sincerity.

Jack looked up at him, about to protest before deciding he was right.

(space)

The water splashed on his hands in an unfamiliar rush, a cold sensation bringing shivers up his spine, as though washing his hands was a process he wasn't used to. Running the soap over his rough, callused hands, Jack noticed that dozens of tiny scars were cut deep into his hands, decorating his skin in a thin color of pink. Water dripped from his hands, stinging his scarred skin as he examined the tiny wounds, interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Hey," Kate greeted softly, stepping into the room.

Jack shut the water off, subconsiously covering his hand.

"You ready?" She asked him lightly.

Jack nodded. It was weird, if he had been missing for nine months, he assumed that meant some of his medical memory would be faulty. But everything, every procedure that needed to be done and question that needed to be asked, came to him crystal clear.

"You don't have to do this," Kate told him, her voice remaining unusually soft for her tone.

"I'm fine," Jack insisted, "really, I don't see-"

"Nine months, Jack," Kate cut in, taking a step forward, decreasing the distance between them, "that's a long time for someone to suddenly come back into your life."

He didn't reply. He didn't want to accept it...nine months. Why didn't he remember any of it? Where had he been? With the Others? All the while, Jack had been holding onto the faded wounds on his hands, and he must've been obvious about it because Kate reached up to him then, bringing the hand holding the other down. Grabbing onto his wrist, Jack was surprised to find himself flinching in pain at the touch as she examined them.

"What the hell happened?" She demanded quietly.

Jack looked down to his wrist. Both on top and below the bones of his hand, each wrist was bruised heavily, sharing shades of blue and black. Underneath them, yellow spots of skin colored his hand and arms, implying that even older wounds lay underneath.

"Maybe you should wrap them," Kate suggested, nodding to Jack's injured hands. He wondered briefly how it was that they still had medical supplies left over, had it really been nine months. Were they still getting the balloon supply drops?

"I don't have time," Jack argued. He hesitated. It already seemed enough of a surprise that he was back, he didn't want anyone to be concerned or worried about the wounds. "Do you have any kind of jacket down here?"

Kate nodded.

"Sawyer has a shirt down here," she replied, already exiting the room.

He didn't ask, leaning back against the sink as she left. Taking a deep breath, a wave of dejavu came over him, the hundreds of surgeries he had prepared for in the past coming to mind. His mind slowly coming to a distantly familiar ease(for a moment of peace would eventually come to him when he took the time to accept it), Jack tried to take advantage of the moment, in his head running through everything he would need to do in order for Sun to have a successful delivery. If it really had been nine months, Jack hadn't been here to take note of anything that had happened with her- if she had ever been seriously sick or fainted. But he didn't have anytime left to feel guilty as Kate came rushing back into the room, handing him a black and red plaid shirt, long-sleeved. Jack glanced towards her.

"What?" She inquired, quickly regaining control of her breath.

"I feel like I should be killing a deer in this," Jack teased, chuckling.

To his surprise, Kate smiled, running a hand over head.

"What can you expect from Sawyer's wardrobe?" She joked, managing to keep her smile.

Jack returned it, rolling down the sleeves to make sure they covered his wrist. They exited the room only to find the same scene they had left, Sun screaming in pain with Jin panicing beside her. Quickly kneeling to the ground, Jack was once again about to get to his questions when Sawyer grabbed his arm.

"That's my shirt," he complained, bitter.

Jerking his arm away, Jack replied, agitated:

"Deal with it."

He didn't know why Sawyer was so irritable, why he seemed to hate the fact that he had returned. From what Jack knew, the last time he and Sawyer had talked they were on pretty good terms. But he pushed this aside, and in only minutes a newborn baby was in his arms, crying quietly as Jack cleaned its face, taking care of all the necessary precautions before handing the child to Sun, congradulating her. She took the child, grateful, smiling as she faught to catch her breath, Jin looking like someone had lifted a load of bricks from his back as Sun loosened her grip on his hands. He didn't hear what they named their daughter, already heading back to the restroom to, once again, wash his hands. The baby had been healthy, that he was thankful for, but his mind was already elsewhere.

(space)

When he walked back into the room, Sun and Jin were already gone, pressumingly moved to a much comfortable position on the couch or bunkbed...asumming they were still there. Sweaty blankets and pillows were left in their place, the room ready to be cleaned up. And Kate and Sawyer were standing right by it, talking in low voices. Silently, Jack slipped away to hide behind a wall. He didn't really want to listen into their conversation, but part of him was curious. Sawyer had acted riddiculously bitter upon his return, and now that he thought about it, even Kate had been acting strange. Or maybe she had just changed.

"Thanks for helping," Kate was saying, wiping her hands on a handtowel.

"Looks like you didn't need it," Sawyer replied in the same bitter tone as before.

Kate looked at him, as if to say 'Don't start'. Sawyer rolled his eyes.

"Come on, the guy just walks back in here like nothing happened!" Sawyer complained, rolling one of the blankets angrily into a sweaty ball.

"Aww, you're worried," Kate teased, "it's cute."

Not replying, Sawyer looked at loss for words.

"Don't worry," Kate replied quietly. Jack turned around, curiously peeking into the room.

He almost wished he hadn't. Leaning forward, Kate planted a soft kiss on Sawyer's lips. Though it didn't last long, it was obvious that that one action made up for anything Sawyer had to be bitter about. He didn't smile about it, but he was clearly pleased in his own, silent way. Nevertheless, as Kate slowly pulled away, a smile crept upon her lips.

"Nine months is a long time," she finished.

Jack sank back against the wall, feeling slightly sick. He didn't know why he cared so much...it wasn't as though he and Kate were a couple this supposed nine months ago, but still...nine months in a relationship with Sawyer? It felt like an insult, a personal blow. Like anything he ever did, said, or attempted to say didn't matter. Closing his eyes, Jack didn't see Kate enter his side of the room, and jumped at her voice.

"So where are you staying tonight?" She asked him, a new smile on her face. A smile that she wanted him to see, to cover up what was really going on.

"It's night?" Jack asked, the question catching him off-guard.

Vaguely he could remember being on the beach and the sun going down. But who knows where that beach was, or how he had gotten there... Now he was feeling Claire's pain, the pain of a life interrupted. But this wasn't just a few weeks. This was nine months. Nine months of time gone. Nine months of change...

Kate gave him a sympathetic smile.

He wondered if he should mention seeing the kiss, asking her about it. Then he remembered Sawyer. Had he left yet?

"Where are you staying?" Jack said curiously, studying her for a reaction.

Kate unmistakingly blushed a little.

"The beach," she replied.

Jack looked around the hatch. It felt awfully quiet in there just then. Though the hatch wasn't filled with people the last time he was there, there was usually _someone_ down there. And shouldn't people be asking about Sun's baby? It hit him just then that there may not be anymore people...if it truly had been nine months, who was to say they were all still there? Feeling sick again, Jack swallowed to try and make the feeling go away.

"What about down here?" He asked.

Kate considered it.

"Sun will probably stay down here tonight," Kate informed, "but she probably wouldn't mind if you took the bed."

Jack nodded. Somehow a baby and a bunkbed didn't seem like a safe idea to him, so he assumed Kate meant Sun would be taking the couch.

"How has she been doing?" Jack remembered wondering about any pregnancy difficulties Sun may have head.

"Fine, considering," Kate shrugged, "it's been hard for her."

"I could imagine," Jack agreed.

They both looked away, as if simutamiously agreeing for a moments of silence to pass between them.

"So you don't remember anything?" Kate asked suddenly, quietly, with a hint of desperate hope in her voice.

Jack shook his head.

"I remember being on the dock," Jack recalled, "when I woke up on the beach...I just assumed that somehow we had been rescued-" he realized his wording quickly, "not permanitly, but, you know, I thought the plan had worked."

Kate grimaced, and Jack wanted to know then more than ever what he had missed out, what had happened that day. Why he couldn't remember anything.

"Not for all of us," Kate whispered. Another moments of silence passed between them, and Kate glanced down at her arm, as if there were some imaginary clock of time there that Jack couldn't see. "So, do you want to change...or is there anything you need?"

Jack shook his head again.

"I'm good."

(space)

Hours later, Jack regretted saying that. He found his body aching with hunger, and when he looked in the pantry, Jack found that most of the food was taken. What was left were things like noodles and pasta and, somehow, just the thought of eating that kind of food made him feel even sicker. Not only was he hungry, but as time went on, his muscles began to turn sore, and even walking felt like an undoable chore. With every step a muscle cracked a little, as if he had aged years instead of months. He'd painfully wrapped his wrist with some medicine tape he found stored in a kitchen drawer, finding that they too grew more painful as time passed. It was as though the physical results of his missing time were hitting him, taking place of the emotional stress that came with it. Alone in the hatch, listening to the soft cries of Sun's child, Jack had nothing to think about except for what might of happened to him, and letting a dozen situations play in his head on how Sawyer and Kate's relationship had progressed. He didn't want to think about it, but they had just seemed so close, so at ease with each other at that moment...

Settling back down in the bottom bunk, Jack tried to push back his hunger and pain, and attempted to sleep. His eyes felt heavy, swollen. And from what it looked like in the mirror, they had been, at one time. If there was anything that confirmed his missing time was his appearance: a long scar lined his neck, light and faded, as though a knife had been placed there many times, threatening to kill. Like his hands, a couple of scars were visable on his face: running over an eyebrow or under an eye. But most curious of all were the bumps that lined his arms, what were plainly injection marks that dance across the skin under each arm. Even a scar from an IV cut into the inner part of one arm, all leaving haunting evidence from an experience he didn't remember.

Thinking of the scars and the burden of trauma he couldn't remember made his head hurt, a pounding headache that seemed to grow worse everytime he looked at an arm or a leg. He shivered a little, the headache coming onto him with brutal pain, and Jack put back on Sawyer's overshirt. But even after only seconds of wearing it, sweat began to race down his forehead in heavy drops. He shivered in the heated sweat, as though instead of becoming claustraphobic because there was little space, it was because of the heat. The hatch was cool, but yet Jack felt like he was lying under a desert sun. Shedding the jacket, Jack lay on top of the covers as he now tried to block out the heat, hunger, and pain, the effort making him blind to any moving in the room, even another person entering it.

Sitting up, Jack was surprised to see that the room was now dim, as if someone had turned off the other lights- pressumingly Sun. On a second thought, Jack was glad he chose to stay down here, who else was going to press the button? Kate didn't seem too worried about it, but someone had to do the job.

As the shadow of the man drew nearer, Jack recognized the figure as Sayid, with longer hair and, from what it looked like, a darkened tan.

"They told me you were back," Sayid commented, greeting him with a smile.

"That's what they say," Jack sighed, running a hand over his head. Remembering the scars on his arms, Jack quickly reached for the shirt that had been laying on the bed. "So, nine months."

It wasn't really a question, but an attempt at acceptance. Had Sun not have just delievered a once one-week old baby, Jack would've still been demanding proof. And he was still finding it hard to believe. The phsyical evidence was still convincing, though: the scars, and the fact that everyone's hair had grown longer, even his own getting a little longer(well, taller), and darker. But still, nine months...

Sayid nodded.

"Notice any changes?" He asked curiously.

Jack shrugged, looking around the room, wondering if that was supposed to imply anything specifically.

"Yeah," he began sarcastically, "Sun just gave birth to a child."

Sayid smiled at him wearily.

"You missed out on all the fun," Sayid complimented dryly.

"I would've rather been here," Jack sighed, laying back down on the bed, placing his hands behind his head.

Immedatily that heated feeling was coming back, and as he could feel his body temptarure growing warmer, his breath also grew raspier. He wondered if he was sick.

"I don't know where I was..." Jack went on, "...what happened."

Sayid took a thoughtful pause before responding.

"You're weaing a Dharma shirt," he noted, pointing at the white shirt Jack was wearing underneath the plaid one.

Glancing at his chest, Jack could now distincly pick out a faded Dharma symbol embroidened into the white fabric, now only black outines visible, as though it had been worn frequently.

"Guess that explains everything then," Jack sighed irritibly. He didn't know why he was so surprised, it wasn't as though he could've wondered around the island for nine months. He imagined that he'd have much worse phsyical results from that, as unbelievable as that sounded, at the moment.

The room sat in silence then, a hum of some kind of air conditioner sounding from somewhere far off. Jack expected the alarm to be going off soon, so he closed his eyes for a moment's rest before going into the computer room.

"You're going to sleep?" Sayid inquired uncertainly.

Jack opened an eye.

"Yeah," he replied blankly.

"You don't know where you've been for the past nine months," Sayid went on, "or what happened to you. And you're just going to sleep?"

"Yeah," Jack said again, "I've been missing for nine months, I have no clue what's happened to me, and I'm going to sleep."

Sighing himself into darkness, Jack closed his eyes, trying to focus on falling asleep. He didn't know if Sayid was still there, but his words were still in his head. Soon he was plunged into wonder, theories and ideas running through his head of what could've happened, and what he missed; and as much as he wanted to think about it, he felt himself growing more and more exhausted by the moment. Right now, all he wanted to do was sleep. Right now, all he wanted to do was get through the night.


	3. Back

Life Interrupted

Chapter Three

**Disclaimer:** "All Will Be Well", the song at the end, is by The Gabe Dixon Band; written by Gabe Dixon and Dan Wilson. You can find a recording of the song on their website: http/ (go down to song choices to "All Will Be Well", and you can either buy it on Itunes or 'Stream It' to Real Player.

**Chapter Three: **Back

He couldn't sleep. Hours ticked away, and Jack could only lay there, staring at the bunk above him in hopes of tiring simply out of boredom. It didn't work. Leaving the red shirt to the side for the next day, the unatural sense of heat still flowing through him, his rising body temperature bringing a thin line of continuous sweat dripping down his forehead. All he could do was lie there and soak everything in: the fact that he'd been missing for nine months, the fact that memory was gone, the fact that Kate was now with Sawyer... and all through it, the back of his mind was reeling with an unfamilar sensation- a scream. Screaming. It wasn't loud enough as to completly override his thoughts; it was more of a soft piercing, creeping over every image and wonder that entered his mind. He didn't know whose it was, nor did he recognized the voice. It was too distant, too far away to understand. He thought it sounded male, but Jack couldn't be sure...

At last he had to get up. Swinging his legs over the bed, Jack let his bare feet fall to the floor, shivering at the cool touch that soon felt relieving. His head began pounding at the next slightest effort to move, and he brought a hand to it, having a small hope that somehow it would make it stop. It didn't. Now relucantly, due to the massive headace, Jack got to his feet, hearing a small sound as his back popped at the movement. He winced, but essentially ignored it- and the headache- as he decided to wonder the hatch a bit, see if there were any more differances that could confirm his disapearance. Crossing the bedroom, Jack found himself on his way into the computer room, which, at first glance, was nothing but darkness. There was a lightswitch nearby, he knew, and feeling for it in the dark, Jack flipped it on, stopping at the site he saw.

The place was a mess, or at least as far as the equipment went. A smashed up version of the aged computer was the first thing Jack noticed. The desk remained in the middle of the room, the computer pushed to the side along with other obviously ruined equipment. Stacks of some kind of printing paper covered the forgotten electronics. The only thing that seemed to be working was the stereo system, and there was no doubt in Jack's mind that Charlie had something to do with that decision.

"Well, hello."

Jack jumped at the voice. Locke, unmistakingly. He sounded just as Jack remembered, though somehow, even before Jack turned around, he knew there was something different about the man. During the times of the hatch, the button, "Henry", there was this stress to Locke's voice, like you knew there was something burdening him, something that he was unsure about. But now, even with just those two words, there was something lighter about his voice, something more free about his tone. The burden was gone. The uncertainty was gone. But even so, there seemed to be something else off about it. It was empty, somehow. Jack was amazed he was able to pick this all up from two words. Remembering to turn around, Jack finally faced John Locke.

Like the others, there wasn't anything strikingly different about him, besides his tone and presence. It didn't feel like he was going to lash out, or jump into some wild theory. He seemed...defeated. Accepting. That was it. He seemed accepting that this is how it was, and there was nothing they could do about it.

"Hey," Jack finally said, swallowing the nerves out of his throat.

He remembered seeing Locke last like it was yesterday, but Locke hadn't seen him for nine months. For a moment they stared at each other, both taking in the differences of each other's apperance and personality. Small hairs had sprouted on top Locke's once-bald head, but it wasn't anything obvious about the change. He looked like he'd given up on shaving, dark stubble lining his chin in result. Something that did catch his eye, however, was a long scar on Locke's right forearm. It dug deep into his skin, still shining red, though it looked so settled that it could've been months old. On his neck was a small, fist-sized burn, light now, probably faded from long-ago. But none of these injuries had been there before, nine months ago. Kate hadn't said anything about Locke being caught by the Others, but nine months...who knew what happened. He could've been held by them for three and let out.

"What the hell happened?" Jack demanded. He didn't plan it, it just slipped out. Looking around the room- the broken computer, abandoned equipment, and most importantly, the recently spotted melted countdown sign.

"I could ask you the same," Locke retorted, nodding to Jack. His eyes ran over the scars on Jack's face, and at that moment Jack realized he'd left the shirt on the bed. Locke undoubtly caught sight of the IV on his left arm, and the other numerous scars that dotted his skin. Frozen, Jack couldn't answer him. "I know you don't remember." The confession came sympathetically; and Jack had a feeling that wouldn't be the only sympathy he'd get.

Jack looked around the wrecked room once more.

"So what happened?" Jack asked again, trying to push back being caught.

Locke took a thoughtful look around the room, going back ages in his mind to the time of his story. Watching him curiously, impatiently, Jack waited for him to begin.

"Do you remember seeing a bright light?" Locke began. "That's how they described it." Jack didn't bother asking who 'they' was, but he did remember a light. It was part of his last memory. "A sound, maybe?"

Jack nodded.

"It's the last thing I remember," Jack admited.

Locke nodded thoughtfully, still looking lost in memory. A long pause followed as Locke stared at the countdown. Jack was beginning to think he'd forgotten their conversation when he spoke up again.

"We didn't press the button," Locke confessed simply, sadly. "We didn't press it...and you were wrong." Jack did a double take. Wrong? As in the button really was important? The sick feeling crept up on him again; he rememberd when they first came down the hatch, insisting the button was useless. What if he hadn't of pushed it then? Maybe the world really would've ended. "This room-" Locke wave his arms around the room, becoming entranced in the story he was telling, "it turned up like a twister. Everything was destroyed."

"How?" Jack asked carefully, trying to register it all in. Picture it in his mind. But all he could see was himself at the dock, hands bound, gag pulling at his mouth. Secretly he had been scared, terrified, but he wouldn't admit it outloud, not even in his eyes. The experience had been terrifying enough, being forced through the jungle, unable to see or breathe; but when the light and sound came, he didn't know what to think.

"Desmond failsafed it," Locke recalled.

Jack's nose turned up at the word.

"Failsafe?" He repeated, puzzled.

Looking down to the ground, Locke paused again. Then Jack realized: it wasn't just a burden of memory. Locke was hesitant in telling him what happened. Finding out what he missed. At last Locke looked up, smiling now.

"I guess you want to get some sleep," he offered, ignoring Jack's question completly.

But Jack wasn't ready to be done with the conversation. Where was this failsafe? Was Desmond still alive? How had the Others reacted to that? But before Jack could protest, Locke walked away, leaving Jack, once again, with his own burden of trying to get some sleep. Somehow, he knew he wouldn't suceed. Already the screams were back.

(space)

Tens of thousands of times had she'd taken this same path to the caves, but somehow, this time Kate knew it would be different. This time, supposingly, Jack was going to be there. Together they decided that putting off a reunion of his return would only stir curiosity, which was, apparently, exactly what Jack didn't want. So they arranged to meet outside the caves and go in together, at least so Jack wouldn't have to go through the overwhelming experience alone. Of course, he'd repeatedly pointed out that it would only be overwhelming for everyone else. Whenever he'd come across another castaway, to him it would be just like seeing them the day they were taken captive. But for the castaways themselves, it'd be like seeing the ghost of a friend they'd all lost nine months ago.

The sound of someone getting sick made her stop, but eventually she moved forward in both curiosity and concern. Creeping forward through some spare brush from the jungle, she saw the outline of his figure before she had a clear view of him, and afterwards Kate realized that she was only slightly surprised of whom it was.

"Jack?" She asked quietly, worry pouring out of her voice.

Her wall of emotion had come down months ago. When she looked back to the time before, she realized with resentment that she'd possessed neither true happiness nor hate. There was just one simle, blank, face that she'd offer at all times; a safe mask to conceal whatever she truly felt. But as time drew further on, and the days of Jack's disapearance grew into multidigit numbers, she could no longer hold anything back. Even if she was alone when her walls would come down without warning, it was a new experience for her, and it took some getting used to.

Of course, a natural worry or concern for someone wasn't anything she wasn't used to offering.

Looking up at her, Jack offered her a grim, weak, smile as he rested a hand against a tree, clearly having a hard time catching his breath.

"I'm fine," he insisted, "last night I started feeling a little nausiated. I don't know where it came from."

Kate frowned, stepping up to him and placed a hand on his forehead. He looked away, blushing a little at the attention.

"You're burning up," Kate informed him in concern. "Have you eaten?"

Jack let out a snort.

"Are you kidding me?" He replied, managing a weak smile.

He was still wearing Sawyer's long-sleeved shirt, she noticed, despite the fact that it was warm out(it was now August, maybe still unbeknowest to Jack). Looking paler than usual, Jack certainly appeared sick, weak even. Really getting her first good look at him, Kate noted the sickening way his white shirt hung losely around his body, leaving inches of space between his skin and the cotton of the shirt. It was like instead of having a bigger shirt to grow into, he was shrinking to fit in a smaller one. The thought of his obvious and sudden weight loss made her stomach churn, and Kate cleared her throat in attempts to make the feeling go away.

"You ready to do this?" She asked him, nervous as well as trying to be as sympathetic as possible without scaring him.

"Actually..." Jack trailed off, hesitant. Clearly fueding with himself, Jack struggled to decide whether or not to go on. She waited for him, while mixed feelings of formally announcing his return ran through her mind. It was a great relief to have him back, no doubt, and it would be to everyone else; not only would they be relieved to see that he was safe, but they'd have their doctor back. The one person who could truly take care of him. On the other hand, Kate was finding adjusting to his return harder than she thought it'd be. She didn't know what to expect: would she throw her arms around him, like after the cave-in? Or maybe something even more embarrasing on an impulsive instinct? After awhile she had stopped imagining the situation altogether, her repeativly betrayed hope dying within her. Now she just wasn't sure how to react, what the correct way to aproach him was. Should she give him space, or immediatly fill him in on everything? Should she suggest using Libby's psychological method to try and bring his memory back, or would he want to just leave it at that, a forgotten experience he never wanted to deal with again- mentally or phsyically. "I was gonna ask you something."

Kate swallowed again, nodding.

"Anything," she offered seriously.

To her surprise Jack didn't answer, but began to shake off the longer shirt, revealing skin that looked much more paler now than it did last night in the hatch. The whole idea of being in sunlight didn't seem to be suiting with him.

"What did they do to you before you escaped?" Jack inquired.

Her eyes lept in surprise of the question. She stumbled over her words, searching over ages of memory, though quickly arriving at the right one. Though her stay with the Others was short, she knew it wouldn't be something she would forget easily, even though Jack gave proof for otherwise.

"I-" she stopped herself, having a hard time chosing her words. She hated admiting, back then as well, that they had just left him there, really being able to escape more easily than expected. "I told you, we escaped."

"Just like that?" Jack said carefully, a clear disapointment darkening his hopes.

Kate began feeling sick herself, wrapping her arms around her chest at the memory.

"Yeah," she admited quietly.

Jack didn't answer right away. A nagging feeling began to bother her, and she knew then that last night, Jack had definetly doubted everything he was told, everything she said about the escape and missing time. He'd probably gone to bed praying it was all a dream, only to wake up to the cruel reality of morning to find a horrific truth awaiting him. But at last he grew out of whatever shock he was in and went on with his question anyway.

"So you don't remember anything they might've done to either of you, phsyically?" Jack went on.

"You mean besides dragging us through the jungle bound, gagged, and blindfolded?" Kate remarked sarcastically, smiling a little in confussion. "Jack, what-"

A single action interrupted her. Abruptly and roughly, in one motion, Jack rolled up the sleeve on his left arm, all the way to his shoulder, revealing a variety of both thick and thin scars, all not-so-delicatly carved into the skin there. Kate stopped, startled by the revealation. Both wrist were still wrapped, though the bandages were already loose and sweaty. Most noticable of all, at the moment, was a scar from an IV, thick an white, not at all fated.

"What the hell?" Kate began quietly, mirroring their encounter in the bathroom from the previous night.

"I don't know," Jack said frantically, hands trembling in confusion as he had trouble rolling back down the sleeve. He ran a hand over his head, repeating his statement: "I don't know."

She contemplated what to do. A hand cautiously reached to his arm, more in care than examination, but Kate quickly brought it down. His eyes warned her not to go there, and Kate drew away, taking a safe step back. Moments passed between them, both unwillingly mulling over the wounds and what they could mean. If there were even more wounds, before these.

"What about your back?" She finally asked.

Jack let out a breath he had been holding.

"Of course, I can't-" Jack cut himself off, blushing a little.

They met eyes, the same idea passing between them. There was no need to talk it out, or confirm it. With obvious pain, Jack peeled off the white shirt, a flashback of their first encounter passing in Kate's mind. She thought about closing her eyes as he knealed down, back facing her. It would make the pain- or whether, his pain- come all at once, rather than in a slow revealation. But she kept them open, feeling entranced as Jack finally settled into a knealing position on the ground.

The fact that he was a couple of shades lighter in skin color struck her first- he'd clearly hadn't been out in the sun often, if at all. Still carved against his pale skin, Kate was able to easily make out his scar from where she had stitched him up. Now the scar was accompanied by dozens of tiny other scars and a random bruise or two, mostly on his sides, as though he'd been repeativly tossed or slammed against something. Kate shivered at the thought.

"Is it that bad?" Jack asked, half-amused, half-worried.

Kate looked up at him, temporarily forgetting he was there, though his body was right there in front of her.

"Not really," Kate answered truthfully, "you've got some bruises." Touching his back lightly, she pointed out where they were. He didn't wince at the pain, as though it were too familiar to notice. "Nothing serious. Nothing that needs stitches."

She added the comment lightly, smiling to herself. His reaction was hidden, but the way he turned against the comment became gradually noticed. Biting her lip briefly, Kate cringed at the reaction. Already she could feel him slipping away, becoming engulfed by reality and facts and lost memory. She didn't want to think about his recovery, or if he'd ever be the same...she wanted him to already be the same. After waiting for so long for him to return, Kate wished that they could just skip over the process of rebuilding. She didn't want to think about the choices she had made while he was gone, some because he was gone. She didn't want to think about how those choices would effect Jack now.

"Thanks," Jack offered simply, standing up.

"What the hell's going on here?"

Kate groaned. Another thing she didn't want to deal with was Sawyer. All night he had complained about Jack's return, how "inconvenient" and "unfair" it was. All Kate could do was not lash out at him, unwillingly listening to his bitter rambles for hours on end. At last she couldn't help it. She'd throw in a defense, reminding him that he too had been concerned about Jack's long-term disapearance. Sawyer couldn't seem to remember.

"She was just-" Jack began, jumping into a response for Kate, which she knew Sawyer would disaprove of. Because of that, she interrupted.

"He's hurt, Sawyer," Kate pointed out, putting an irritated emphasis to her words.

"And he's wearin' my shirt," Sawyer reminded with a huff.

Jack glanced to Kate for help, but she didn't know what to say. Eventually he and Sawyer would have to talk. Or yell. Or fight. Whichever came first.

"I'll wait for you," Jack said, offering to end the awkward pause. Slipping both shirts back on, ignoring Sawyer, Jack walked off, switching paths as he left. She wondered if he still knew where he was going.

Sawyer glared at her as Jack left, in awe over something unbeknowest to her. Kate let out a dry laugh for comic-relief.

"You act like you've never seen chest hair before," Kate remarked with an innocent smile, pulling a loose strand of hair back as she momentarily turned away from him.

Ignoring her, Sawyer didn't hesitate to, once again, jump into his complaints.

"What the hell gives you the right to give him my stuff?" Sawyer demanded, face contorted into anger.

She closed her eyes tightly. Her defense was that he was just afraid, afraid that he'd lose her, afraid that things would change. He just hid it with anger. She just kept telling herself that, insisting on believing it without daring to mention the theory to Sawyer himself.

"Have a little sympathy, won't you?" Kate shot. "The guy's been missing for nine months."

"Doesn't mean a thing to him," Sawyer snapped, "he ain't remembering it."

Letting out an exasperated sigh of frustration, Kate tried not to lose it. Parinoid, she glanced around, part of her expecting to see Jack listening around the corner.

"Just have some respect," Kate concluded.

"Respect, my ass," Sawyer shot underneath his breath.

Kate's eyes lit up in disaproval.

"Sawyer!" She exclaimed. She didn't offer anything else.

Meeting eyes, he drew himself in and out of her, as if contemplating whether or not what she was saying was worth dealing with. It was a common habit they had, and they had grown to that point of not having to say anything, just knowing what the other was wanting to say or thinking. That wasn't always a good thing.

"I've got places to be," Kate said, making to leave. She brushed past Sawyer on her way off the path, truthfully not caring one way or another whether or not Sawyer followed. Either way she stopped short, drawing herself close to him, whispering: "Don't make this any harder than it already is."

(space)

Sitting on a rock outside the caves, Jack found himself thinking about what it would've been like had he come back with memory. Would he know his way around as easily as he did now? But, in the end, he had no memory, and Jack almost felt guilty about it. He was well-hidden from the caves, but even from here he could feel everyone's nerves, their reliefs, their fears. And yet he didn't know what he was supposed to be fearing.

"Sorry about that."

The quiet voice took Jack's attention to the path he was sitting just off of, where Kate was standing, looking like an embarrased mother of a child who refused to stop acting up. She blushed, bringing a hand to her forehead as she stepped towards him.

"You ready to do this?" She asked, peering into the caves. No one knew exactly when they were coming, but from what it sounded like, most of the camp was there, waiting for them, anyway.

Jack nodded.

"I guess I have to be," he sighed, getting to his feet.

Offering him a sympathetic smile, Kate guiding him, placing a hand on the small of his back as they stepped into the caves.

Immediatily motion stopped. Whether talking or moving, everyone present turned, staring at the man they hadn't seen in nine months. Jack himself looked around, trying to take into account who all was there. Charlie, Claire, and an almost year old Aaron were present, along with Hurley, who looked at him like he'd just seen an angel fall from the heavens. Or perhaps a ghost.

"Hey," Jack said, at last, giving a small wave. No one responded. Most of the people here he wasn't as familiar with, never becoming close with hardly anyone in the first few days of being on the island. Eventually groups had developed, forming without him as he faught to save the marshal, hike to the cockpit, and deal with emotional problems such as his father's death and then learning about Kate being a fugitive. Still the emotion in the room went unnoticed, the intenisity of the moment bringing him to say the first thing that came to mind: "I'm back."

(space)

Kate followed him with difficulty as Jack bolted from his entrance at the caves. If being sick made him weak in any way, Jack didn't let it show. At first. As she grew closer in distance to him, she noticed his stumbling, the difficulty he took in keeping to a straight path. Up ahead, Jack tried to get as far away from the caves as he could, his mind spinning in attempts to make out a clear path.

"Jack!" She cried after him desperatly, fighting the branches that dared to stand in her way.

He ignored her. He didn't know why he ran; it had been on impulse, rather than on planned decision. What really threw him, he'd finally decide later, was seeing everyone there- everyone who wasn't really everyone. Aaron had become older by months, and there had been a few obvious absences. He didn't want to know where those people were now.

Suddenly a fallen branch stuck out at him at the ground, and as his foot caught on it, he could feel himself flying forward, about to smash face-first into the ground before a hand reached out and caught him.

"Way to make an entrance," Kate smirked behind him, pulling Jack up to a safe upright position, "I'm sure no one will wonder about that."

Jack let out a long-held, shocked, breath. He let out a laugh in attempts to regrain control of his breathing.

"What's going on?" Kate asked him as he finally calmed down, crossing her arms and studying him in concern.

Looking around, Jack took a thoughtful moment to contemplate his response. He didn't want to tell her everything that was going on in his head. He didn't want someone constantly and desepratly worried about him, holding their own burden of his troubles.

"I can't- I can't do this," he placed his hands on his hips, eyes still wondering around the jungle, as though they held the heart of his problems. "Nine months? I mean-"

Kate's eyes wondered over him, taking in his exhausted appearance, the way he was still breathing hard from his near-fall and run.

"Denial's natural, Jack," she began, speaking like she was leading him in a lecture. Gradually her voice became more sympathetic, her eyes finally laying on his with her story. "But so is getting over it." She offered him a soft smile, brushing ahand against his arm. "You know what they say about time."

Yeah, time healed everything. Or made you forget everything.

"Yeah," Jack agreed with a hint of defeat. He looked around the jungle once more before his eyes fell on Kate, smiling a little. "Time."

Exchanging knowing smiles, they both silently doubted Kate's theory. They'd been on the island for eleven months now. Time had settled them in, but mentally, it really couldn't do a thing. At least, it didn't feel that way at the moment.

Breaking the peaceful quiet that had taken over, Kate's smile widened and then disapeared, preparing for a depature.

"I have to go," she said, throwing him an apologetic glance, "just stay away from the caves for awhile, you'll be fine."

Jack tried and failed at returning her smile, and she offered him a small one for the effort. Watching as she turned, Jack was contemplating bringing up the subject even when he opened his mouth to bring it up.

"I saw you and Sawyer last night," he admited. His words stopped her immediatly. "After the birth...are you sleeping with him?" Jack cut himself off immediatly after the second question. It'd been in his head, but he hadn't meant to ask it, not this soon.

Kate hesitated before turning around, bringing a hand to pull back a loose strand of hair.

"That's non of your buisness, Jack," Kate replied quietly, steadying her voice as she turned.

He didn't respond. The immediate denial told him what he wanted to know. The way she stopped at the question, even though she was unmoving before he asked. Everything about her seemed to stop then; the question had caught her off-guard. She could've denied it, she could've even lied. But she didn't. It was true.

"So you two are together?" He tried not to make it sound too obvious that the revealation hurt him. Now he could definetly admit that he felt _something_ towards Kate. He wasn't sure what, but it was something. Their kiss told them that. Just being with her told him that. Just _seeing_ her told him that.

Kate met eyes with him, the apologetic look back. It hit him just then that this must be hard for her as well. They hadn't exactly been a couple when they last so each other(or rather, when he last saw her), but they hadn't been completly bllind to each other. Is it possible that she had feelings for him then? What happened?

"Yeah," she admited softly, crossing her arms, pulling back another strand of hair as she dove into explination. Somehow, he knew she'd caught his hurt expression. "You have to understand...it was hard, Jack. And Sawyer was just there, you know?"'

Jack let out an incredulous laugh.

"What, I'm gone and you go to the next best choice?" He accused.

Wounded, Kate shook her head.

"You know it's not like that, Jack." She looked at him, stern, hurt, betrayed. They'd both changed, that much was obvious, even if only one of them could remember how. "I've got to go."

With that she left, no second chance offered. He was forced to watch her go, walking away from his unfair confession, how unfair it all was, that her life was suddenly turned around. Nothing had prepared them for it.

_The new day dawns _

_And I am practicing my purpose once again_

_It is fresh and it is fruitful if I win_

_but if I lose, ooh, I don't know_

_I'll be tired but I will turn and I will go_

_Only guessing 'til I get there then I'll know_

_Ohh, I will know_

What he didn't expect was for Sawyer to suddenly show up. Jack watched as the two talked, clearly teasing each other, judging by the grins on their faces. He said something that made her laugh, and Kate hit him playfully in disaproval. Face contorting from interest to hurt, Jack suddenly felt sick again. He couldn't explain why it bothered him so much to see them together, but he couldn't turn away. She was just...happy...with Sawyer. And somewhere deep down, for some reason, it killed him to see it. It also killed him to see her leaning up him, smiling as she kissed him easily. People walked by, hardly noticing, of anything,_ ismiling/i_ at seeing the couple together. No one was bothered. No one except for Jack, who finally brought himself to turn away, deciding that they were wrong about change and time. Both hadn't done anything good for him. Yet.

_And all the children walking home past the factories_

_Can see the light that's shining in my window_

_As I write this song to you_

_And all the cars running fast along the interstate_

_Can feel the love that radiates_

_Illuminating what I know is true_

Alex's head turned when she heard the door to the room opening, jumping up when she saw that the person entering wasn't Tom.

"Michael!" She exclaimed, relieved at the sight of a more friendly face coming to see her.

Her face quickly changed when she saw his ripped pants, a thick, bleeding cut running beneath them.

"What happened?" She demanded as Michael fumbled with a set of keys as he approached the bars. A buzzing noise sounded, and they went up. "Michael?"

"I fell," he replied hastily; if there was pain with the cut, he hid it well.

Embracing him into a hug, Alex only pulled away when she was reminded of the cut, pulling back in concern.

"They went out," Michael began. They met eyes, and a pit formed in Alex's stomach, both knowing what he meant without saying it. "And I fell." Both also knew that he hadn't fallen. The injury had been purposful, created with the intention of being able to see her in result. Feeling guilty, Alex let her resent to his decision become known.

"Don't hurt yourself for me," she warned disaprovingly.

"They wouldn't let me see you," Michael complained, running a hand through his hair, or what was left of it. She could remember of time when he had a hair full of pale yellow hair, turning slighly orange, then red, then yellow again throughout the years. Then it just became dead, falling out in pieces until, like most of "the Other's" appearances, there was nothing but a patch left.

"I wonder why," Alex snorted with a sad smile. She didn't waste time with her next question, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Did you tell them?"

Michael shook his head frantically. He was nervous, that much was clear, and becoming shaky and pale from his wound, sweat trailing down his face. Reaching up, she wiped it away with a soothing brush.

"I'm sorry," she whispered hoarsley, finding it hard to speak the word properly. Her pained eyes meeting his, Michael shook his head again.

"I did this to myself," he insisted.

Nothing else was said. Falling silent, Alex looked around the room, looking for security cameras. She knew they had them, but she didn't know where.

"What about the cameras?" Alex reminded him. "Recording devices? Won't they know you're here?"

Michael shook his head, giving a weary smile of pride.

"I hacked into the system," he explained, "no one's watching."

"How'd you manage that?" Alex replied, impressed.

Michael grinned.

"You're not the only one who's special," he remarked mischeviously. Their eyes met, his still twinkling with pride at his accomplishment.

_And all will be well_

_Even after all the promises you've broken to yourself_

_All will be well_

_You can ask me how but only time will tell_

A door was thrown open. The two jumped, startled. Afraid. Immediatly Michael stepped protectivly in front of Alex.

"What the hell are you doing?" Tom asked, more annoyed than angry.

"She has to eat," Michael complained, swallowing to hide his nerves.

Tom looked around the room for evidence.

"Where's the food?" He inquired.

Michael stared at him.

"She ate it."

Sighing, Tom glanced out the door, as if looking for someone. If there was one thing Tom hated, it was someone who spoke against him, someone who dared to question authority. He respected them, no doubt, but it made things that much more diffiuclt for himself.

"You don't have to be here, Pickett," Tom reminded him. Alex's eyes trailed to Michael's in hopes of explination. It was something she'd heard quite a few times, but she never understood. "You're free to go anytime." Eyes narrowing, he looked directly at Pickett. "You know why you stay."

Michael nodded, showing that he understood. He didn't argue. In fact, he practically let Tom grab him by the shoulder and usher him out of the room, taking the set of keys from his hands. With the keys, he pointed to Alex.

"You," he said, "are not free to go."

The door closed before she could get a last hopeful look for Michael, and the bars went down again. With a groan of frustration Alex leaned back against the nearest wall, banging her head and ignoring the pain that came from doing so, beginning to wonder if she, like some of their past captives, would ever get out of here.

_The winter's cold_

_But the snow still lightly settles on the trees_

_And a mess is still a moment I can seize until I know_

_That all will be well_

_Even though sometimes this is hard to tell_

_And the fight is just as frustrating as hell_

_All will be well_

He was back in the hatch. It seemed to be the only place he could feel comfortable in. Feeling as though he were a celeberty, famous for all the wrong reasons, Jack found hiding down here comforting: it was warm, dark, and the only other people who stayed down there were Sun and Jin. Even Locke stayed away. Of course, another reason he stayed down there was because Jack assumed, at some time, he'd finally be able to sleep. But after laying down for hours, despite the time of day, trying to fall asleep, he had to get up, frustrated. Remembering seeing some meds set up in the bathroom, Jack headed in there, hoping to find some sleeping pills. He needed sleep. Dreamless sleep. He was exhausted.

Relief spread through him as his hand fell over a half-empty bottle of pills, and Jack almost considered taking the whole thing for himself, when he decided that would be unfair to the camp. He couldn't help but to be suspicious though, the thing was half-empty; who was taking them? His drooping eyes ignored the inquiry, and Jack fumbled with the lid of the bottle, more relief coming over him when two tiny pills finally fell into his hand. Taking sleeping pills was something he was more than used to, rather it was after a patient died or after yet another argument with his father. But now he found himself hesitating, the pills lingering in his hand instead of being thrown into his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack caught sight of some of the injection marks on his arm, and decided he had a good reason to be hesitant. Who knew what they had injected into him, what was flowing through his veins and blood right now.

But he needed sleep.

Long and hard he stared at the pills before finally flushing the two down the toilet. He hid the sleeping pills amongst the bottles laying on the counter, envying how they all set there, lined up, taunting him. Giving the counter one last glare, Jack exited the room, finding himself standing in the middle of the hatch alone. He wouldn't be able to sleep, he already knew, it was no use trying.

_And all the children walking home past the factories_

_Can see the light that's shining in my window_

_As I write this song to you_

_And all the cars running fast along the interstate_

_Can feel the love that radiates_

_Illuminating what I know is true_

She had noticed that Sawyer had been glancing towards her all throughout there trip back to their camp, which had become a combination of a pile of her and Sawyer's things.

"What?" She finally asked him, an amused smile playing at her lips.

"That guy just has perfect timing, doesn't he?" Sawyer wondered outloud, dispite whatever Kate may have personally thought.

She rolled her eyes, sick of his bickering.

"Would you listen to yourself?" She exclaimed. "You act like he just crashed our wedding."

Sawyer grinned to himself.

"Wedding?" He retorted slyly.

Kate glared at him playfully.

"You know what I mean," she argued. "Just calm down. He's not out to ruin your life."

"You wanna bet?" Sawyer snapped angrily. "I saw that look of yours on the pier."

"That was nine months ago!" Kate cried. "And we were the ones that escaped, anyway."

Sawyer shrugged, throwing opened a suitcase full of food.

"Guess I wasn't_ special_ enough to be part of your little plan," he remarked bitterly, throwing himself down to the sand.

Kate set down next to him, studying him before speaking up, her voice significantly softer.

"Don't worry about Jack." She'd been repeating the promise since Jack returned, but Sawyer seemed oblivous of it. "Trust me."

He didn't repsond, and Kate took this, with pride, as an accomplishment. In spite of the moment, she reached out, grabbing the bag of chips from Sawyer's hand and digging into them herself, grinning when he glared at her.

"Trust me," she said again, smiling as she ate another chip.

_And all will be well_

_Even after all the promises you've broken to yourself_

_All will be well_

_You can ask me how but only time will tell_

He was back in the hatch. It seemed to be the only place he could feel comfortable in. Feeling as though he were a celeberty, famous for all the wrong reasons, Jack found hiding down here comforting: it was warm, dark, and the only other people who stayed down there were Sun and Jin. Even Locke stayed away.

"Hey."

Of course, except for the occastional visitor. Jack managed a smile at Hurley's arrival, turning to him with a small wave.

"Hey," Jack greeted in return.

"Uh-" Hurley looked around the hatch nervously, as if trying to find words that wouldn't upset him. "Kate- uh- we, kept some of your stuff...at the beach."

Rolling backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet, Hurley impaciently waited for Jack to respond. Jack nodded, giving him a small smile of apprecation.

"Thanks," he said.

Hurley was out of the room in moments. Sighing, Jack through himself onto the bunkbed. Even Hurley seemed terrified by the sight of him. Sawyer was flat out furious that he was back, Kate seemed all of puzzled, concerned, and nervous; and everyone else was pretty much the same. He couldn't find the energy to talk to any of them, to ask what he had missed. He avoided them all together. He was being a coward, Jack knew, not wanting to face reality. But it was just too much to handle right now. But Hurley's words echoed through his mind, there was no mistaking them. Just out of curiosity, Jack headed for the beach, wondering what of his Kate would want to keep.

_You got to keep it up_

_And don't give up_

_And chase your dreams_

_And you will find_

_All in time_

He opened the door without knocking first. A single wooden chair was the only piece of furniture in the room, and in it sat a man, whom Tom learned the castaways had referred to as 'Henry Gale'. He didn't know why; Henry Gale was a storybook character, but the man seemed rather fond of the nickname. 'Gale' was sitting with the back of the chair to the wall, slouched over it lazily. On the wall in front of him(the back wall of the room), was a picture of a tree, hand drawn. Just a tree. Personally, Tom had never understood the meaning of it; it wasn't of his doing. But there 'Henry' sat, stary longingly at the picture, as though it had some deep meaning that was supposed to jump out at him.

"Hey," Tom greeted, bemused by the man's depressed demeanor, "Z.Z."

"Don't call me that." Sitting up, the man turned around around in his chair. "You know I hate that. Call me Zander."

Tom smirked.

"Hey," he said again, "Zander." He eyed the man quizzically. "You're not in one of those 'everything I've worked for is coming to an end' moods, are you?"

Zander remained in the chair, still sitting with his arms wrapped around its back, only this time the chair was facing Tom.

"No," Zander muttered miserably. He was clearly lying.

"Good," Tom said anyway, "because I've got a piece of pie in the kitchen with my name on it." And he was hungry, leading a search party on an empty stomach wasn't a good idea, he learned.

"Did you find him?" Zander asked darkly, meeting Tom's eyes with a warning stare. He had this way of ignoring people and turning conversations his way.

Briefly, Tom glanced behind him, subconsiouly planning an escape route, though he didn't know why. Of all the 'Others', he was probably best aquainted with the man, though no one knew his true ambitions.

"No," Tom admited.

Zander held his gaze a moment longer before deciding on his next move.

"Send her out," he ordered, waving a hand towards another entrance, where a man was waiting for his cue.

A girl was with him, no more than thirty, shaking madly in her captors grip. Blonde, pale, with bound hands, Tom recognized the captive immediatly, and he realized exactly what Zander was wanting to do.

_And all the children walking home past the factories_

_Can see the light that's shining in my window_

_As I write this song to you_

_And all the cars running fast along the interstate_

_Can feel the love that radiates_

_Illuminating what I know is true_

With directions given by quickly passing castaways, Jack was lead to what was clearly some kind of medical station for the beach. He could remember staying here sometimes, whenever he slept at the beach and not the hatch, but the tent was mostly used for storage. As he entered, looking around at the junk piled everywhere, Jack wondered if Kate hadn't of just thrown his stuff in here as an attempt to move on. Either way, he was easily able to find the suitcase described to him, sitting in front of stacks of its kind.

He didn't understand why the tent made him feel suddenly claustrophobic; when he heard where the suitcase was, he had been secretly pleased to here it was somewhere inside, away from everyone else. But now the walls were closing in on him. Claustrophia, unlike insomnia, was not something he was used to. Dragging the case outside, Jack opened it in the sand.

_And all will be well_

_Even after all the promises you've broken to yourself_

_All will be well_

_You can ask me how but only time will tell_

The first few idems were things Jack must've had lying around in a tent somewhere: his dress shoes from the day of the crash and a few t-shirts. One, he noticed, the one he'd been wearing when they'd been captured, was lying at the bottom of the pile. Dried blood covered it, so settled in it was almost pink. Jack looked around before picking up the shirt. In the distance, an almost one year old Aaron was playing in the sand while Charlie strummed a guitar behind him, Claire happily reading a book as she listened, keeping a watchful eye on her son all the while. Even she seemed more at ease, he noticed, more relaxed. But when she had seen Jack walked into the caves, she had immedatly clutched Aaron's hand tightly, as though Jack were a threat. He swallowed at the thought, finally lookind down, examining where two bullet holes had been punctured into the chest of the shirt. He stared at it, trying to decipher the meaning. Only a glimmer of silver pulled him away, and Jack noticed some kind of necklace balled up in the corner of the case: the shoelace chain the guncase key had been tied to. He wore it nearly every day, even subconsiouly sometimes after they discovered the armory. The necklace felt like a pound of weight in his hand, drawing him into memories that seemed so far away though, to him, they should've only been a few weeks ago.

_All will be well_

_Even after all the promises you've broken to yourself _

_All will be well_

_You can ask me how but only time will tell_

_You can ask me how but only time will tell_

He was beginning to get a feel of it now, beginning with the distant memories. Jack felt like he had dropped into another time, and his mind had yet to caught up. At last he dropped the key back into the suitcase, hands falling next onto a jacket. His entire suit from the crash, he realized, was in here. Memories from the crash, before and beyond, ran through his mind like a real of a horror movie, causing him to abruptly let go of the shirt, jerking himself out of the memories. His father. The crash. The burning fueselage. Boone's death. Being caught by the Others, depseratly trying to get Kate to safety only to be pierced with whatever kind of dart it was himself. Being on the pier, Michael getting away. The flashing light.

And then...darkness.

That day was his last memory, and he wanted to know why. He wanted to know what happened, and most importantly, why. For the moment, he wanted his memory back. He wanted to know that his life wasn't completly over.

Because just when you thought the world couldn't get anymore unfair...

**Author's Note** Thanks so much for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	4. Orientation Part Two

Life Interrupted

Chapter Four

**Disclaimer:** No, you didn't miss a chapter. This is supposed to be kinda like a continuation of the episode "Orientation" of season two. Like another Orientation. So, for the recond, _Lost_ belongs to J.J. and Co. at ABC. Also, _The Great Gatsby_ was written by F. Scott. Fitzgerald. Map interpretations thanks to lost.cubit. Buddhist Wheel of Life info. thanks to Feel free to ask for complete links. 

Chapter Four:

Orientation Part Two

"Don't," Kate scolded, catching a red shirt just before Sawyer could throw it into the washer. She eyed him, amused by his mistake. "You don't mix reds with whites."

He scrowled at her, balling the shirt back in his hand, though making no move to put it back with the other laundry. She dragged him down there, claiming that he needed to get around some more. Which he did. Relucantly he joined her, complaining how there were better ways to show respect than to get you to wash someone's underwear.

"I'd like to hear you explain that one," Sawyer snorted happily, as though it were the most outragoeous thing he'd ever heard. Kate laughed.

"You just _don't_," she replied, "when was the last time you did laundry, anyway?"

"A year ago," Sawyer shot back, bitter and serious.

Kate rolled her eyes, though she knew that there was good chance he wasn't lying. Stealing a glance towards him, Kate smiled, knowing that she hadn't truly bothered him.

"So, see your friend today?" Sawyer asked with a smirk playing at his lips.

Kate rolled her eyes again. It was something she found herself frequently doing around him...she was starting to see how Rose would sometime refer to them as acting 'just like an old married couple'. Of course, soon after Bernard would note that they(as in he and Rose) were an old married couple. Rose didn't seem affected at all. Unlike Kate, Sawyer usually didn't like partaking in conversations about their relaitonship. A kiss or a hug in front of others, he didn't mind at all, but he would frequently claim that anything to do with their relationship was nobody's buisness but there's. Unfortuently, there was reason behind this. After Jack disapeared, it was obvious that most disaproved of the way she went to Sawyer for suport, then that support turning into something much more, in their eyes, Sawyer using her emotional pain to his advantage. Some still hadn't gotten over that theory, though a few had just grown accustomed to seeing them around and didn't think of it. They were, dare she admit it, a happy couple, considering.

But now that Jack was back...

"Jack?" She inquried, eyeing him.

As much as Sawyer clearly hated Jack turning up to 'ruin things', he made a point to include him in every conversation, mostly complaints. She knew, deep down, that he was glad to see his old friend(using 'friend' loosely), but she supposed she understood his worry, however riddiculous his parinoia seemed to be getting.

"Yeah," Sawyer said dryly, "_him_."

Kate threw another shirt into the to-be-cleaned laundry.

"He's around here somewhere," she said, "who knows, maybe he'll take up my offer to sleep over tonight."

Sawyer grasped the shirt he was holding tightly, glaring at her with incredulous eyes she hardly ever saw from him anymore. She laughed.

"I'm joking!" Kate exclaimed. "God, be a little more parinoid, won't you? I told you, you can trust me."

Bitterly, Sawyer continued on with the laundry.

"Ever head of _The Great Gatsby_?" He inquired.

She raised an eyebrow, surprised at the referance.

"Glad to see you got some smarts in there," she teased.

Sawyer rolled his eyes.

"It's about this guy," Sawyer went on, "he's got this girl, and they're in love, right?"

"Sure," Kate shrugged. She'd only heard of the book, but she knew it was a classic.

"But he gets sent off to war," Sawyer continued. Already she could tell that he had some kind of sympathy for this guy, this chararcter, and whatever his story was. "And when he comes back, the girl's got someone new."

"Heartbreaking," Kate commented, her mouth feeling dry. Suddenly she knew where this was going.

"So what's she gonna do?" Sawyer had stopped doing the laundry by now, and he was watching her for a reaction, challenging her. "She loved this guy to death, but this other guy she met...she can't drop him either." He was watching her closely now. Kate felt like someone else was moving her as she put a last shirt into the washer, determined not to let herself be too obvious. She knew what he was doing. He asked his question again. "What's she gonna do?"

Kate shut the washer with an accidental force, giving herself away. Lowering her head to the ground, Kate had to force her words out, her tone small and uneven:

"I'm gonna go."

She couldn't of made herself more obvious, and what was worse, as soon as she entered the room, Sawyer's worse fear, his challenge to her, was right there, waiting. Kate stopped, startled by the sudden appearance of Jack, sitting on the couch looking, to say the least, bored. He hadn't felt comfortable, she assumed, with reaquainting himself with those who hadn't seen him for the past nine months, so he stayed down here. At least it looked like he found himself something to read.

"Good book?" She asked, recovering from that sudden shock.

Jack looked up at her, and she was surprised to see that he looked just as startled by her presence as she did him. So he hadn't been waiting for her. Jack held up the novel he had been reading: _Sphere_, by Michael Chriton

"Fair," Jack offered with a smile. Putting a finger to keep his place, Jack put the book aside. "So...laundry?"

A nervous laugh escaped her. Had he been waiting? The thought shook her a little, knowing that Jack was wanting her company, wanting her close by, when he knew she was with Sawyer. But they were still friends, right? It wouldn't be fair to cut him off. Maybe she was the one being too parinoid.

"What's with the jacket?" Kate asked, so suddenly she surprised herself. She'd only half-noticed he had changed shirts, now wearing some kind of suit jacket, black, with the sleeves at the wrist torn slightly.

"It's mine," Jack shrugged simply.

Now she remembered. It had been hanging on the tree beside him the day they first met, the day of the crash. The last she remembered of it, she had been folding it snug into a suitcase, laying it away with his other personal belongings, assuming they'd never see its owner again. As much as it hurt to give up hope, demands - and sanity- she needed that sense of letting go, of accepting, desperatly. Once Jack was gone, most immediatly turned to her for their troubles and assuring. Her, Jack's "right-hand girl". She made them feel close to him, somehow. If only that feeling didn't turn out to scare her, like there was some ghostly presence haunting her. To be in his position, to do what he did every day, to be looked up to like he once was, it brought her close to him, but sometimes that feeling did scare her, and at times she wanted nothing more than to be able to run from it. But, somehow, something kept her there. Something, or someone, like Sawyer...

"It has a hole in the back," Kate pointed out, forcing herself away from her thoughts.

Jack looked behind him, as if he'd forgotten. Again he shrugged, as if it meant nothing to him. As hideous as he may have looked in that jacket, she knew the feeling, needing something of your own, which came to be hard in this place. Even just needing something familiar. It had been one of the reasons she had, at first, been relucant to pack his things away. It was a sign of giving up. Those first few weeks, months, she- even the rest of them- needed his stuff to still be sprawled about, just waiting for Jack to come and collect them. It was like reassurance that he was still there, somewhere, within them.

Kate half-heartily smiled.

"Let's get you something else to wear," she offered, pulling him off the couch, his book dropping and losing its place on the cushions. Neither noticed.

"You shop now?" Jack complimented, amused. Kate grinned, leading him in the laundry area, where she was relieved to see was free of Sawyer. "Wow."

Unlike when he had been there last, the laundry area was more of a huge walk-in closet for the castaways, home to old clothes the owners had either grown or shrunk out of- though none of them had lost nearly as much weight as Jack had. In fact, the first thing she thought to do was hand him a belt, which he took quizzicly.

"You don't even want to know what you look like," she informed him with a smile, "my mother would've killed me if I wore pants like that." As much of a tomboy as she was, like most mothers, her's hated seeing her in baggy clothes, though Kate personally prefered them.

Relucantly, Jack slid the belt through the loops of his jeans, though two loops were broken, the rest looking to fall apart at any given moment. He looked like he hadn't had a proper roof over his head in ages, and for all she knew, he hadn't.

In interest he watched as she reached up to the rack above her, which was slightly too high for her, though she never admited it to anyone. Stuffed in one corner, for the island's heat making them unecessary to keep them around, were a few long sleeve shirts and jackets. She picked out a dark blue one, that looked much less casual than the suit jacket he wore now. Over a front pocket was written "The Muskenteers". No doubt a sports team. Jack looked at it with disgust as she handed it to him, like a teenager disaproving of his mother's choice of clothes.

"It's blue," he commented blankly.

Kate rolled her eyes.

"It'll look good on you," she assured, forcing the jacket into his hands.

"So what," Jack began as he switched jackets, "you sit down here all day and figure out everyone's 'color'?"

Kate grinned.

"Maybe."

Smoothing out the pockets, Jack relucantly settled into the attire.

"What's Locke's 'color'?" He asked with a grin.

She looked away, laughing at the question. Much like a mother, she messed with the collar of the jacket until it suited her taste.

"See?" Kate said pointly. "Told you it would look good."

Jack smirked, already exiting the room, leaving her to decide to follow him. On the way out, he immediatly ran into Hurley, who backed up, puzzled, at the jacket.

"Who're the Muskenteers?" He inquired.

He turned to Kate, as if to say 'I told you so'. She rolled her eyes. Honestly, she didn't think he looked that bad, and not just because she picked out the outfit.

"Listen," Hurley went on, "Locke said he wanted to talk to you. He'll be down here in ten minutes."

Kate raised an eyebrow. It wasn't like Locke to set apointments.

"Sounds serious," she commented.

Hurley shrugged.

"Desmond's coming with him," he added.

The name caught Jack's attention.

"'Desmond'?" He repeated, surprised.

"Yeah," Hurley said, eyeing him curiously, "you know, the sailboat guy. The original numbers dude. 'We're all going to die', blah blah blah."

Jack snorted.

"I remember you saying something about that too," he reminded him. Still they hadn't gotten an explination from that, and Hurley didn't seem ready to give one.

"The one thing he remembers..." Hurley mumbled, walking away to leave the two alone.

Kate and Jack exchanged glances before chuckling.

"Good to see some things haven't changed," Jack commented, moving to sit back down on the couch. Kate settled onto the arm of the sofa, not to far from him. He watched her for a minute, she noticed, taking in her appearance as she crossed her arms to balance herself. "But you..."

She looked at him. Yesterday he'd seem so much in denial, so anti-change, that she didn't think he noticed anything signficantly different about her, besides, of course, that she was with Sawyer now.

"What?" She responded quickly, eyeing him.

Jack shrugged, sinking back into the couch, looking around the room sadly.

"This whole place..." he went on, "you...Sawyer." She should've know where this was going.

"Jack-" she began carefully. Maybe it was time to settle things between them, for her to be able to really explain herself.

Forget time.

"Sorry," he said quickly, shaking his head, "I-"

"It's not like we were a couple or anything," Kate cut in defensivly.

"I know," Jack admited, "it's just-" he stopped, slowing down. He looked at her, in almost that same challenging way that Sawyer had. Of anything, she had hoped that she could trust that Jack wouldn't be so hard on her, for him to give her time as well. But she knew that was unfair as well. After all, they hadn't been completly oblivous to each other before they were taken by the Others. "Were you really sorry you kissed me?"

Her thoughts stopped immediatly. Her heart skipped a beat. She couldn't think to consider, to negotiate with herself, the reply before it came out of her:

"No," she admited quietly, not looking at him. She gave herself a thoughtful moment. _Way to take things slow. _"But that doesn't matter now-" as much as she would've liked for something to happen between her and Jack back then, things were different now. The change was coming too suddenly, and she wasn't ready to accept it. She looked at him then, eyes pleading, more desperate than she would've liked. "Please don't make it matter."

He stared at her, and she melted away from his gaze, staring hard at the floor. She wished she had something to distract herself, something to drink or something to eat, anything to not make herself so obvious. Jack wasn't going to go away any time soon, and Kate didn't want to hurt him...but she didn't want to hurt Sawyer either.

"Am I interrupting something?" A voice called, snapping both out of their daze.

Locke was standing at the edge of the room, looking out of place amongst the topic of their conversation. She had to hold back from breathing a sigh of relief at the interruption. For now, Jack would be gone, and she wouldn't have to be under that constant pressure of explaining herself or considering their former relationship.

"No," Jack said for her, smiling grimly as he sat his book on the table; at the same, Kate stood from her spot on the couch. Unlike her, Jack seemed disapointed by the interruption, but she couldn't tell if that was because he now had to talk to Locke, or because she would have to leave. "Hurley said you wanted to talk to me?"

Nodding, Locke looked to Kate, confirming his request for her departure. She stood, now curious as to what he wanted, but she was sure she'd hear it at some point or another.

(space)

No questions asked was Locke's request. Jack followed him into a room just outside of the computer room, one that connected all of the combined rooms. Desmond was there, hair longer than ever, a little passed his shoulders and in need of a trim. Like Locke, Desmond possessed a simular burned, this one engraved into the lower part of his face, an ever-lasting bruise. Giving a little wave, Jack acknowledged Desmond's presence.

"You ready?" Locke asked Desmond, who was waiting for his cue by some type of machinery, two wires ready in hand. Jack's eyebrows furrowed, interested.

"Ready when you are, Boxman," Desmond replied, a hint of excitement in his voice as he studied Jack with curious eyes.

A hand fell on Jack's shoulder. In Locke's grip, Jack was forced to look at him, more curious than ever as to what was going on. Better yet, what had been going on.

"Now, Jack," Locke began, wiping a nervous trail of sweat away from his forehead. This was one of the moments where Jack was reminded how much older than them Locke was. When needed, Locke could really have an authoritive demeanor, and attention was immediatly pushed towards him. "You can't panic." Jack raised an eyebrow. Not the best way to start off. "You have to promise me that."

Puzzled, but eager to find out what was going on, Jack agreed.

"Okay," he said. Locke's hand fell from him, turning to Desmond.

"Go ahead."

Somewhere above them, something big and large in size squeaked, creaking and growing louder as the sound became closer. That's when Jack realized the room was shrinking- not literally, but doors were coming down over every opening. Blast doors, Jack realized. On instinct, he made a move to escape...what the hell were Locke and Desmond up to? But Locke's hand stopped him again, pulling him back towards the center of the room, silently assuring with the gesture not to panic. The doors came down slowly, but with every inch it seem to grow faster, and just when it looked like they'd be locked in the room, Desmond cut the process short, the doors stopping a foot above the floor. Locke nodded to Desmond, determined. They'd done this before, Jack realized. Next Desmond switched off the lights, and just as Jack was about to demand to know what the hell hey were up to, Locke turned him towards a far wall. There, lay his answer.

On the wall, lit by a blacklight and some kind of special blue and pink paint, was drawn a map. Or at least what looked like a map. In the middle was a circle, with lines drawn to connect to six other circles- a seventh stood on its own. Writing covered the outskirts of the drawing, some of it in a language Jack quickly recognized as Latin.

"What the hell is this?" Demanded Jack as he took a step closer to the picture.

Locke smiled, pleased at the question, despite the force that came with it.

"A map," Locke replied, speaking the obvious, "a layout. Of this island."

Immediatly, Jack turned at the explination. No way in hell could this map of their island be lying right here under their fingertips. They had enimies here, enimies who would never give them obvious direction around their land. Again stepping closer to the map, now easily reading excerpts such as "I am here" labeled directly under the southernmost circle(named, "The Swan"), and quite a few locations named 'CV'.

"What does this mean?" Jack asked, shaking his head in awe. It was hard to believe, all this information right here, ready for their use. Running a hand over the drawing, Jack found himself feeling the thick cover of the blast doors, the map secure in its painting.

"I always wondered about him," Desmond began, gazing at the map, "Kelvin."

_"And then Kelvin died, and now I'm alone!"_

The memory came back to him so suddenly that it startled him. It felt almost like it wasn't supposed to be there.

"He drew this?" Jack guessed.

Desmond nodded. Out of the corner of his eye, Jack noticed that a gun was safely rested in Desmond's back pocket, though it looked homely there, not a weapon grabbed for a recent mission. More and more messages were beginning to stick out to him, something about confirmed locations and an incident. But two things at the top stuck out to him the most- notes of a manufacturing site and a shutdown date: October 28th, 1984. Ten years ago. Well, maybe ten and a half, he guessed.

"Here's a better version," Locke announced, handing Jack a crisp piece of paper, a mirror of the drawing, down to the footnotes and Latin messages. Some of them Jack immediatly knew, such as "I think, therefore I am depressed". Though he didn't know much of this map or its painter, Jack could guess that this was more of an added thought, nothing that really had to do with the drawing. A note added out of boredom, just to get the idea of one's head. "And this-" he handed Jack a simular drawing, though with meanings written inside circles and with outerlayers, much more detailed as far as pictures went than the first, "is called the Buddhist Wheel of Life. Someone recognized the simularities and drew it up."

Now that Jack compared the two, so did he. Each contained six outer circles with one in the middle. He couldn't help but to note that Buddhist believed in Dharma- the name corperation that seemed to be running their island. Easily, due to years of studying Latin, Jack was able to read one of the sayings, to Locke's surprise:

"You read Latin?" Locke inquired, both interested and excited.

Jack nodded.

"Somewhat," he admited, downplaying his knowledge of the language. Truthfully he could read each and every one of the sayings and, truthfully, they made him nervous.

Locke was next to him in no time, hand falling on the Latin excerpts written around the map.

"What do they say?" Locke demanded, eager.

Jack raised an eyebrow, but looked back down at the map anyway. Desmond joined them.

"'The disease is worse than the treatment'," Jack read with a sigh, having to confront the fear of what he read the first time again. It was more like worry, because if some of this stuff was true... "'the remedy was worse than the disease'." Moving a finger to where the different sayings were, Jack read them off: "'Save yourself from hell'. 'A mouse does not rely on just one hole'-" Jack took a long sigh before saying the last one, which stood out most as far as oddness and outrageous went- "'here there be dragons'."

Desmond took no time to react to that.

"'Dragons'?" Desmond repeated, sounding frantic- and even a little frightened. "You mean-"

"I'm sure there are no dragons," Jack assured him, sighing again as he handed the paper to Locke, "it could just be something from a book or a dream. Mythology is used very symbolically."

Locke didn't look convinced. Face now dark, alarmed with fear, he didn't seem so excited anymore.

"But what about-" he began before Jack cut him off.

"It's not real, John!" Jack exclaimed, his fury leaving him before he could get ahold of it.

Locke glared at him, challenging him.

"Like the button?" Locke shot back.

Jack sighed, feeling suddenly restless and irritated. They were feelings he had been growing used to lately, and he begged for an escape from them. Briefly, he wondered if Hurley was still running his golf course.

"The button wasn't real, John," Jack insisted. It felt like they were beating a dead horse, arguing in circles with no end. Truth was, neither would probably ever fully convince the other to change their view, yet they'd continue to debate anyway.

"The sound and the light," Locke began, pointing towards where outside should be, "those were real. And they just happened to happen after we didn't push the button! You were wrong Jack, admit it."

Frustrated, Jack through his hands up.

"Fine!" He exclaimed. "I was wrong. Is that what you want to hear? I have no idea what your damn map's supposed to mean, or why the hell there are people out there _running_ these experiments!" Suddenly, Jack felt the need to argue his point. He took a step forward in the space between him and Locke. "Tell me, John, what do you think of this? How does it feel to be a lab rat?" Meeting Locke's eyes, Jack dared him to interrupt. "Because that's what you are." Stepping back, Jack concluded his speech. "So congradulations, you're right."

But Locke didn't look ready to give up.

"I didn't want this..." Locke trailed off, his voice shaking.

Jack turned on him. He'd lost his temper, and though he was aware of it, he couldn't think to gain it back.

"Yes you did!" Jack accused. "You did, and now you're right. So, once again, congradulations."

He turned to leave, but the blast doors were still down. Scrowling, Jack had no choice but to turn back to the fight.

"The film-"

"The film was a fake!" Jack exclaimed. "The button may be real, but this is still an experiment, and you're part of it!"

Locke smiled grimly, keeping a stern face as he tried not to lose it.

"He's back," Locke commented under his breath, turning away.

"I don't know what the hell happened to me," Jack went on, despite the comment, "but those people aren't trying to save the world."

"Then what are they doing?" Locke shot angrily. "What do they want, Jack?"

Jack met his eyes, glaring into them in anger and disgust, not only because of Locke's belief but for the people they were talking about. The ones who had taken nine months of his life away from him, who had turned his world upside down. Who'd robbed him of his memory and, worse- from what it looked like- every relationship he'd had on this island, including what could be the most important one: his relationship with Kate.

But still, he couldn't answer Locke. He couldn't think of something great enough, evil enough, that could be these people's motives. He couldn't begin to think of it, because he wasn't like them. So he chose to ignore the question. Turning to Desmond, he asked:

"What happened to your face?"

Desmond looked startled at being aproached, and looked to Locke for an answer.

"Jack-" Locke began, desperatly trying to get his attention, to make him see reason. But he didn't want to. He couldn't bring himself to believe, like Locke, that maybe these people had done some good. What good had they ever done for them? They were _letting_ them stay on the island. The Others could bring them rescue, could help them, but they chose not to. Instead they hurt them, dismantaled their hope, brought on fear. The Others were the reason they were still here, suffering the consequences of one selfish group with a couple of staged videos and old computer equipment.

"I was talking to Desmond," Jack snapped, cutting him off yet again.

Desmond still looked too startled to respond; it was a full moment before he could answer.

"Burn, Brother," Desmond replied, at last, "that first month...never want to go through that again." To remind himself, Desmond touched the spot on his face that was permantely damaged, due to some incident that Jack couldn't understand. Frustrated, the realization hit him hard.

"And I wasn't here to help," Jack grumbled, running a hand over his head as he turned, considering every other kind of injury that he could've missed. People could've _died_ because he wasn't there to help.

"You can't blame yourself," Locke pointed out.

Somehow, his voice sounded like Kate in his head. Maybe, Jack thought, because Kate was the only one who ever cared to say that to him, most of the time. He didn't know how to react to the comment, and sarcasm leaked out:

"Glad to see you're on my side," Jack commented lightly.

Locke stopped, not answering him. Jack looked at him, waiting for Locke to say it. Truly, they weren't on the same side. No, Locke wouldn't turn and murder him(he could hope), but even after nine months gone, they were still at blows, their fights seeming never ending. It reminded him of his father, memories he'd rather not go back to. Rather not remember. Unfortuently, they were the only memories he had left of his dad.

"Can you put back up the doors?" Jack finally asked Desmond, waving a hand to the half-shut blast doors.

Without protest or permission from Locke, Desmond let the doors go back up, and Jack left the room, not giving it a second thought as he chose to keep his mind far apart from it. If only there were some memories he could chose to forget.

(space)

When she walked into the hatch, the first thing Kate noticed was that most of the lights were out. The second was the loud music- Led Zeppelin- coming from the record player. Jack wasn't there, she noted, and a blue light was shining from the room she knew the projector was in. Curiously, she walked in and, sure enough, Jack was in there, sitting on the couch and eating a bowl of cereal, watching the Orientation film in a trance.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" She commented, smiling a little.

Jack didn't look up at her.

"I just don't understand," Jack said, watching the film as he talked. There was no doubt in her mind that he'd sat there all evening watching that film over and over again, desperate for answers. "Someone's _letting_ this happen. Someone _knows_ we're here."

Crossing her arms, Kate looked down saddly.

"I know," she said, "it's a hard thing to accept."

"I can't."

Shaking his head, Jack stood, leaving the bowl on the table. He faced her.

"I've been watching this all night," Jack confessed, "it just doesn't make sense."

"I know," Kate said again, offering him a small smile, "I'm on your side, remember?"

Jack smiled a little at the mention.

"Locke said you disagreed with him on everything," Jack remembered.

Kate laughed a little, remembering the many arguments and debates she had, purely for Jack's sake.

"Someone had to," she said with a wink.

Crossing over to the table, Kate grabbed Jack's empty bowl, carrying it into the kitchen.

"I can get that," Jack offered as she passed her.

"I'm just glad to see that you're eating," Kate admited. It was true. Even if it was down to Jack questioning Dharma, it was good to see that things were slowly coming back to normal. Very slowly.

Leaning against a kitchen wall, Jack watched her in interest as she moved to the sink, placing the dish amongst other dirty plates in glasses, turning the water on so it splashed over them.

"You clean dishes now?" He noted, amused.

Kate shrugged, managing a small smile. It was therapeutic, cleaning dishes, but for some reason, her reliable method wasn't working. Thoughts of Jack were back, and not the worries and fears and regrets that had been there for the past nine months. These were new thoughts. Memories. And now that Jack was back, there was no real reason for regrets...if she wanted, she could drop everything and trace back to that day, to that time in their relationship, and fix everything. The images that played in her mind, memories of themselves, encouraged it- everything from the incident with the dynamite, Jack asking for her to have his back through all this, to their first kiss. And only kiss. So far.

_But there shouldn't be a 'so far'..._

Even when she was with Sawyer eariler in the year, there had been a small chance that Jack was still out there somewhere, yet she had still made an attempt to move on without him, and had somewhat been succesful. So why was it so hard to keep going now?

_Because he's here. Because he's standing here, right now, watching you._

Kate shook her head. How did she let herself get into these situations? She had promised Sawyer her trust, and she didn't want to lose him.

Then why was Jack still in her head?

She must seem insane to him, she thought, thinking about such a big move relationship wise when, in his mind, only days had pass since she ran from him in the jungle. Ran from something that easily could've been, but was never given a chance. It took a long time for her to overcome that fear, and by the time she did, Jack wasn't there anymore.

"You really have changed," he decided, sadly, as though it was something he knew he had to accept but didn't want to.

She swallowed. She didn't want to talk to him right now, not when, in her head, things were so confusing. Anything could come out at any moment. Luckily, Jack changed subjects for her. Out of nowhere, she noticed, but didn't protest.

"Where were Michael and Walt?" He wanted to know.

Kate griminced at the question, stopping as she answered:

"They never came back."

She turned towards him sympathetically, waiting for him to react. He didn't. Instead he just nodded, then excused himself out of the room silently. It wasn't because of her answer, or at least completly, but because they both needed their space. It seemed to be all they could do, talk and then quickly get away from each other, like any step further would end catastrophically.

Letting her sympathetic smile linger, Kate waited until he was a safe distance away from the kitchen before returning to her thoughts. But not for long. She couldn't take it, and before she could stop herself, a fork had flown from her hand, skidding to a stop on the floor a couple of feet from her.

_"So what's she gonna do?"_ Sawyer's voice repeated in her mind.

Hands resting on the kitchen counter, Kate faught to keep herself together, muttering:

"I don't know."

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	5. The Way It Was

Life Interrupted

Chapter Five

**Author's Notes:** I'm terribly sorry about any grammatical and spelling errors. If there are any major ones, please let me know, but I honestly may not be able to edit this for a week, but that means that I wouldn't be able to update for a week. So I hope you guys don't mind error for this chapter.

**Disclaimer**I do not own _Romeo and Juliet_, that belongs to Shakesphere.

**Chapter Five:** The Way It Was

By his third day back, Jack had learned more about the hatch than ever. Still he had yet to spend much time in the outside world, leaving himself to learn every inch of the hatch, all its doors, the books inside; including those who came and went throughout it. Sawyer wasn't one of those people. So Jack was more than slightly surprised when he walked into the 'gym' of the hatch to find Sawyer sitting their, easily doing sit-ups. Jack snorted. If there was one thing he knew about Sawyer was that he liked to show off, though he wouldn't flat out admit it, and sometimes- like now- it became pathetic.

"See something you like?" Sawyer said with a mischievous grin, glancing towards Jack as he lifted his head again.

"Yeah," Jack replied sarcastically, grinning a little himself.

"Hope I didn't spoil your schedule," Sawyer went on, "I know how you doctors love to stay on task."

Jack shrugged, and Sawyer eyed him.

"What _are_ you doing in here?" He inquired.

Jack shrugged again. Without meaning to, his eyes locked in a distant stare, focusing on a barbell that sat safely in hold. He hadn't even seen Kate since early the night before, and he was beginning to ponder it. So far, she had been practically insistant on keeping him company, but she hadn't stepped foot in the hatch ones in nearly twelve hours. What he wondered most was it was something he said, something he brought up. Maybe he had moved a little too quickly. But how the hell was he supposed to pace himself? To him, they'd seen each other everyday for the past months. For her, it was the exact opposite. In fact, the way his things were packed away so carefully, the insecure tension with each conversation, like she didn't know where she wanted to start, or if she even did, made him wonder if she even thought about him still. Maybe, like his own memories of the past few months, she had simply...forgotten. Or forced herself to, at least.

"Have you seen Kate?" Jack asked suddenly.

Finally Sawyer stopped.

"Why?" His eyes were focused on Jack, cold and unapproving.

"Just wanted to know," Jack said, shrugging.

"Why?" Sawyer said, going back to his excersing. "You two have a date?"

Jack couldn't help but to grin.

"Maybe."

He meant it as a joke, but Sawyer didn't even smirk. Instead he sat up, grabbing his shirt from where it hung nearby. Stepping up to Jack, he glared at him, locking eyes with him with that same cold stare.

"How about you stay away from her?" It wasn't a suggestion. Jack tried not to let himself feel intemidated. Briefly, he wondered what Sawyer would actually do, were he to ever possibly get through to Kate.

"How about you loosen up?" Jack shot back lightly. "You're acting like I'm trying to date your sister."

Sawyer raised an eyebrow in mock curiosity.

"Are you?"

"Do you have a sister?" Jack said teasingly, though his eyes narrowed a little. It'd never passed him that Sawyer never mentioned any kind of family of his own. He wondered if Kate knew more, though he admitted that he wasn't in the place to ask.

Sawyer snorted, all seriousness escaping him. Looking to the barbell nearby, a mischevious grin spread across Sawyer's face.

"You ever used one of those before?" He inquire, nodding to the barbell.

Diverting his eyes to it, Jack considered the question before replying:

"Yeah."

And it was true. Stress and occasional depression did unpredictable things to you. Like joining a gym where the weight trainer just happened to be a woman who would ask you out after your first class. Of course, that being just a few months after Sarah left him, Jack felt obliged to turn her down. And he found a new gym.

"Really?" Sawyer said, sounding honestly interested. "Go ahead."

Jack's eyebrows furrowed at the suggestion.

"What?" Despite his success there, Jack had quit both gyms after only a few months. Tuition fees were something that had bothered him since med. school.

"Well we all know how much you like to show off," Sawyer smirked.

And were he to fail or refuse, there was no doubt in Jack's mind that he'd never hear the end of it.

"Fine," he agreed cooly, hiding his uneasiness at the task as he lowered himself to the foor. Even though he had been back for a few days, being away from whatever enviroment he had been exposed to for the past nine months, strength hadn't returned to him easily.

Nevertheless, Jack placed his hands on the barbell above him, taking a deep breath as he prepared himself for the task.

"Didn't know you had to meditate first," Sawyer remarked with a smirk.

Jack ignored him. Curious himself as to whether or not he could still do this, Jack finally lifted his arms up. Slowly and eventually, the barbell went with him, though he only let it hover in the air for mere seconds before bringing it back down again, collasping on the floor from the effort.

"Don't kill yourself," Sawyer warned lightly, reaching down with a hand as he helped Jack up. "Golf, poker, hell you even gave your blood through a damn piece of plastic," he began, "hell, is there anything you can't do?"

Jack grinned a little at the comment, though in the back of his mind, he could think of a few things. He couldn't fly. He couldn't save his father. He let himself get taken captive for _nine months_. And still they hadn't been rescued.

"So did you sit in the weight room, complaining to yourself about how daddy hates you, your wife left ya, the whole 'universe is against me' bit?" Sawyer went on, ignoring Jack's momentary silence.

But the response caught Jack's attention. 'Wife'? He couldn't tell if Sawyer was joking or serious. But somehow, Jack had a feeling that this wouldn't come out in his favor.

"How'd you know about that?" Jack inquired without much thought. It'd been more of a subconsious decision to keep that part of his past hidden on the island.

Sawyer only grinned.

"Why don't you ask her?" Sawyer retorted with dark humor.

The question was meant to intemidate him, and it worked. Jack's eyes narrowed and then widened. How much did she know? But he didn't press it. He didn't want to learn his answers from Sawyer. He glanced back to the barbell, grimmacing at the thought of having to put it back in place. He hadn't relized how out of shape he was.

"I don't even go to the gym," Jack admitted, take a step back in their conversation, "I run."

"You mean from the big bad bullies trying to take your lunch money?" Jack glared at him, and Sawyer grinned.

"No," Jack said, "I mean, I really run. Couple of miles a day. Up steps, around parks." He shrugged. "I just run."

"Really?" Sawyer retorded, making it sound as though he were interested. He looked away thoughtfully before he turned back to Jack. "Think you could be me?"

"In a race?" Jack inquired, amused.

"Yeah," Sawyer said, "a race, between you and me."

Jack considered it. What else did he have to do? He was already fairly confident in winning, anyway.

"You're on."

(space)

"Of all the places," Jack began, struggling to climb up the hill, only so he could run down it a few moments later. The effort proved to be tougher than thought. Perhaps this was Sawyer's plan, to drain the energy out of him before they even started. It was working. "A hill?"

Sawyer, who was having no trouble climbing the hill, ignored them as they reached the top, scanning the area below for a destination. Glancing down, Jack searched the bottom in dread. He felt like he'd be sick if he ran down the slope, but he had no choice. Even if he backed down, that'd still mean climbing all the way back down. Steep, the slope was actually field with very little obstacles, though there was a tree or two that could cut you in half were you to run into it.

"There," Sawyer said, pointing to a set of two trees, ten feet apart, "see those two trees?"

Jack nodded.

"We'll kill each other," he noted.

"Well then," he turned to Jack with a sly grin, "whoever lives gets to keep the girl."

"Kate?" Jack inquired, a little taken aback at the propsal, however much of a joke it was supposed to be. Sawyer ignored him, scanning the area below again, as if thinking of a strategy. Jack shrugged. "If you're willing to give her up that easily."

He forced a smile, hiding the sick feeling developing in his stomach. The feeling wasn't from the challenge itself, but the enviorment. Being back in the jungle: the sounds, the smells. Climbing the slopes and zigg-zagging through trails. All of a sudden it seemed like such a foriegn experience, though in his mind's time, it was only a few days ago when he hiked to the other side of the island. Swallowing, Jack sucked it up, preparing himself for the run. Because, like Kate, if there was one thing he was good at, it was running.

"Ready," Sawyer began traditionally, "set...go."

Wind whipped around him as he flew down the hill, though there was hardly a breeze in the air. Struggling to keep himself straight, Jack regretted secretly mocking Sawyer's decision to hold the race on a hill, where it'd assumingly be easier to run than on level ground. He had been wrong, especially in his case. He could hardly concentrate on anything, jumping just in time to keep himself from tripping over rocks and branches that stuck out of the ground, almost missing the tree they were supposed to stop at. Grabbing onto it, Jack swung himself around, feeling all he hadn't eaten suddenly come back up his throat, swallowing just in time. A few seconds later, Sawyer landed in simular fashion ten feet from him. Despite his sick feeling, Jack had to grin. He'd won. For a few moments they caught their breath, Jack leaning with a hand against the tree for support.

"Okay," Sawyer began, holding up a hand in defeat as he was successful able to regain control of his breathing, "I'll let you have that one. But next time..."

"Next time?" Jack immedetialy cut in without thought.

A sudden wave of dizzyness came over him. He couldn't understand why he felt so weak. He'd traveled the jungle- running or not- dozens of times before. Now it seemed like he was out of breath with every step. Sawyer eyed him as he placed another hand on the tree to support himself. Maybe he just needed to take it easy. After all, who knew what had been done to him. Hell, he might not have even been outside throughout his stay with the Others.

"You okay?" Sawyer asked in honest concern.

Jack nodded. The one thing he didn't want was to have people worrying about him, becoming overly concerned and afraid.

"I don't think there'll be a next time," Jack remarked with effort, grimmacing a little at the weak feeling that remained even throughout the trip back to the hatch. Sawyer frequently glanced towards him, both with curiosity and concern, but Jack refused to say anything.

"Where've you two been?" Kate inquired with amused interest as she watched a sweaty Jack and Sawyer enter the main room of the hatch. She lifted herself off the couch, arms crossed. He took a thoughtful pause, wondering why she was down here. Had he finally come looking for him? Maybe to explain everything? But that was asking a lot for her, he knew, and it really wasn't her fault. Distance was more than understandable from her, whether he liked it or not.

"We raced," Sawyer replied happily, despite his loss. He stepped forward, as though he wanted to kiss her then, but Kate stepped back at the same time. Neither he nor Sawyer missed the action, and Sawyer's face hardened, glaring at her in disapproval.

"And I won," Jack annouced proudly.

"Congrats," Kate said, beaming as she glanced to Sawyer, just to spite him. More angry than he should've been, Sawyer turned back to Jack, though calming a little as though he suddenly had some secret plan.

"So why don't you tell her about your 'episode'?" Sawyer said, a sly grin on his face despite the seriousness of what he was talking about.

Kate's face contorted into immediate concern, turning to Jack.

"What episode?" She demanded.

Defeated, Jack had no choice:

"I just got lightheaded," Jack admitted.

"Jack, you've been sick ever since you came back!" Kate argued, incredulous.

"I think he's waiting for the 'kissing to make it feel better' part," Sawyer smirked, speaking the phrase into Kate's ear as he walked out of the room. Kate froze momentarily at the statement, forgetting to pick back up on her argument. Though slightly surprised, himself, Jack was quick to start the conversation back up for her.

"What are you going to do?" Jack began again after the short pause. "Take me to a doctor?" He let that sink in a minute, the fact that the only one who could help him was himself. And with no explination to his injuries or knowledge of how long they'd been there, even he wasn't much help.

"You could at least take it easy," Kate pointed out.

"It's been three days!" Jack protested, despite that, truthfully he agreed with her. "What are you waiting for, Kate? For me to suddenly disapear again?" He shrugged, conlcuding his sermon. "I'm here now. You've just gotta accept it." He paused thoughtfully, considering what he was going to say next. "I have." He didn't like it, but could at least ackowledge now that he was back and things had changed. Unfortuently, that included the people too.

"Hey..." a small voice interrupted. They both turned; he didn't recognize the voice or the man who had approached them. Still Jack wondered how much he had heard. Short, with glasses that covered a scar on his nose, Jack quickly decided that this man wasn't one of the Others, but one of their own. Most likely one who hardly spoke up, was too afraid to. "My wife cut her knee...it hasn't stopped bleeding. Someone said I should come and find you." Jack blinked. Quite surprisingly, no one had asked for his help since he returned. "You're Jack, right?" The man did look, without a doubt, afraid, probably terrified at having to come and find Jack. Sympathetic, Jack finally thought to answer:

"Yeah."

(space)

"My name's Ray," the short man informed Jack, traveling the jungle at ease as he led him to the caves. Jack just nodded, focused on actually being able to make it to their destination. He couldn't remember the caves being so far away before. "But it's not like a southern name or anything...I hate that discrimination. I'm actually from Montana. Crazy story, really."

Now that he had actually managed to contront Jack for help, Ray hadn't been able to shut up.

"So what happened with your wife?" Jack asked, ignoring the chance for introductions. Did it really matter now where they were from? Even just a few days after the crash, Jack had accepted that they really had all died, symbolically speaking. They were here and they had to make the best of it, despite some's determination for rescue. He scarcely liked to talked about himself, not wanting to dig into that part of his past again. It was dead, literally, and until he was ready, he wanted it to remain that way.

"Melissa?" Ray said. "She was up near where the graves are and fell. I told her not to go alone, but she never listens to me." Ray snorted. "Women."

Jack let out a dry laugh as well, though he wasn't really paying attention to Ray's banter. Not that it was any of his buisness, but why would someone be near the graves? Had someone died while he was gone? And how? But before he knew it the caves were greeting him, and Jack hardly had time to think about going in as Ray led him to his wife, who was sitting on a rock, accompinied by Hurley and Sayid. The woman had curly blonde hair, and her sleevless shirt revealed a 'WWJD' tatoo on her upper arm. What would Jesus do._ He wouldn't crash forty-eight people on an island,_ Jack responded silently, bitterly. To him, that list could go on, but he let it slide as he knelt down before the woman. Melissa's pant's leg was rolled up passed her knee, which was already coated in blood that was swimming out of a thick cut right on the bone of her knee. Clutching onto the rock, she shook as she bit her lip to keep from crying out, a few tears of pain escaping her as she tried not to let them flow.

"I think she needs stitches," Sayid informed him.

"You couldn't do it?" Jack snapped, without thinking. Sayid looked taken aback, insulted even, and Jack immediatly regretted his words, mumbling a quick "sorry." He was just considering that there had to of been tons of wounds needing stitching, bones needing to be put back in place, wounds needing cleaning while he was gone. Someone had to of been able to do it, so why was it so important to call him now?

He looked around for his medical supplies, realizing that he had no clue where they were. They really weren't even 'his' anymore.

"Here," Sayid said, offering Jack a black box stocked with supplies, ones he didn't remember from before. Perhaps there had been more balloon drops, some that brought more than just food.

Picking out what he needed, Jack began cleaning the wound, the process of the small surgery coming back to him naturally. Others seemed to notice this as well, all three of the men watching him carefully, with interest, as he worked. At last the wound was closed and Melissa's knee was clean, though she was still in clear pain.

"Check back with me soon, okay?" Jack said to her, giving her a pat on the shoulder as he stood.

"I don't think I can walk," Melissa annouced fearfully, still clutching onto the rock as she held her leg straight out in front of. Ray immediatly turned to Jack, worried and afraid.

"She's just in shock," Jack informed him calmly and confidently. He turned to Melissa sympathetically. "Must've been some fall."

She nodded but didn't answer. He placed a reassuring hand on Ray's shoulder.

"She'll be fine," Jack promised, offering a smile as he stepped out.

He planned to head to the graves. It was due time to ease his conscience. Taking the path by easy memory, Jack quickly found his way to their small graveyard, and immediatly saw the difference. He stood for a moment, taking in where he was, remembering when they had been forced to start their cemetary- when Boone died. Then came Shannon, then came Ana, then came Libby. It all came so quickly that Jack had hardly been able to take it in, and now, nine months later, it was still hard to believe. It'd been eleven months since these people had passed. Almost a year, and their families didn't even know they were gone. And still, as general leader and even just a friend, Jack couldn't help but to think to this day...was there something he could've done? Some way to change fate, no matter how insistant Locke was that this was impossible?

But there was one thing for certain. Something wasn't right. Something was off. Another grave had been added, the sign on it either fairly new or refurnished. Either way, it Jack was able to read it, seeing the name crystal clear: Christian Shephard.

His heart stopped. He took a step back, so sure, for a split moment, that he'd fall right through the ground and into his father's grave below him. It was impossible. Ironic, really. He'd searched so hard that day to find his father's body- or at least to put his visions to rest- and prevailing at nothing but an empty coffin. And now this...a grave.

But it was what was beside it that really sent his mind spinning. It was some type of special rock, marble, almost. Slightly large in size, it was maybe six inches long and fairly thick. It was a wonder it was found on the island. But it wasn't the beauty of the rock that had him taken aback, or the size or structure. It was what was on it. The single name, the single enscription: Jack.

"You don't understand-"

He jumped a little at Kate's voice. She approached him from behind, taking each step with care. His eyes diverted back to the gravestone, scanning over it, searching for any possible clue or reason. There was no date of birth or death. There was certainly no body. There was no sense to it. Then he looked to his father's grave. It was just so damn ironic. Jack was gone and then the one thing he had originally been looking for was found. And that was what bothered him the most, almost more than his own grave. It was liked he had worked so hard for some goal, maybe a career, and suddenly it was here; and he didn't know what to do with it.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jack asked, turning his head towards her. She didn't reply, behind him looking hesitant to continue. It was a part of the past she had put behind- or tried to put behind- something Jack was sure was never supposed to show up again, and here it was. This was actually very simular to his situation, except his was about finding something knew and quickly dealing with the effects. With Kate, she still maybe didn't know how to deal with it, or her way of dealing with it wasn't working anymore.

"I-" Kate looked down to the ground, avoiding his hurt and demanding gaze. "I'm sorry."

He didn't mean to stand so fast. He didn't mean to appear so demanding, so furious. Or at least to her. But it came out anyway. Part of it, perhaps, was because, deep down, he needed to let go of things, and when opportunity came to him, he had to sieze it or else it'd be with him forever.

"You're sorry?" He retorted in disbelief. "What do you have to be sorry about?"

It clearly wasn't the response she had been expected. She didn't answer him, just stood there, staring at him in awe of his sudden change of behavior, sudden darkness. And when he realized this, he turned away, determined to let it pass for the moment. He wanted to figure out how to deal with this himself before he brought anyone else into it. Thinking, Jack turned back to his father's grave, staring down at it. Where had they found the body? It was the question eating at him the most, and he decided that was where he needed to start.

"Can you take me there?" Jack asked suddenly, turning back to her. She looked surprised.

"What?" She was watching him as though she were studying him; with each movement she was trying to decifer its meaning, figure him out.

"Where you found him," Jack went on, anticipation biting at his words. This was it. Even before his nine months missing, one of his major innermost conflicts was finding the ultimate answer of his father's death, to solve the puzzle, to figure his place in it, and, finally, to put it behind him. But without a body, the final step, at least, seemed impossible. Now, though...

Kate blinked, surprised by the question.

"It's a ways out," she informed him, sounding hesitant.

He shook his head. He'd walk across the island if he had to.

"I don't care."

Still quiet in presence, she considered his propsal for a moment before making her decision. He hoped she'd agree. The problem, he supposed, would be Sawyer. He hadn't even considered it before. Nevertheless, Kate replied:

"Okay," she said, agreeing. She offered Jack a small smile. "I'll go get my stuff."

Nodding, he let her go. He waited until he was sure she was a safe distance away before he turned back to the graves, surprised to find a hopeful smile on his face. Tonight this could all be over with, or at least there would be a chance of it.

(space)

He was still at the graves when she found him again. Again approaching him carefully, Kate's greeting came soft. Jack was sitting on the ground now, observing the gravesite as though he were watching a movie. His own gravestone hadn't been moved...he didn't feel obliged to be the one to move it. Maybe Kate herself had her own problems to put to rest.

"Are you okay to go?" She asked him quietly, her steps coming up soft behind him. Jack hadn't considered that he had no bag of his own, but going back and not only having to find one to use, but packing it as well would only take more time. He wanted to do this as quickly as possible.

But even so, Jack stopped and considered her question. 'Are you okay to go?'. Not 'are you ready?'. She knew how difficult of a process this would be for him, she'd known since the moment he told her about his father's death. Only now had he given thought to this. With everything that happened on the island, his father's death was a problem that had been required to be pushed back. It was a problem that concerned him and him only. If someone else came to him with a conflict, it seemed unfair to put himself first. After all, Jack was the one they had gone to as leader. But now everything was different. He had no idea if there was any defined 'leader' at all. Now all he had was thoughts of his own problems and conflicts, burdens that were resurfacing now that time allowed it. So now was the time to deal with this particular conflict. He'd have to be ready, really whether he liked it or not.

"Yeah," Jack said, picking himself off the ground.

(space)

When Kate said it was far out she wasn't lying. He regretted not considering the effects walking long distances- which really hadn't been long at all- had on him. For maybe a half a mile he was able to walk without stopping, most of their trip passing in silence. But finally he had to give in, holding onto a nearby tree for support.

"Let's stop," he announce, heaving a quick breath to regain control of his breathing. Kate looked like she could've walked miles on without him, never once taking a break or pausing to admire scenery(not that Jack planned on doing any site-seeing, besides seeing the one site he had come to see, where they found his father's body), but nevertheless she stopped with him, glancing at him quickly in concern. When he caught her gaze she looked away. Breathing hard for a few moments, Jack once again questioned his weakness. Months ago he could've traveled like Kate, hardly stopping despite the rough ground covered. But now every ten feet felt like a mile, each step dragging him down and making him feel, in fact, down-right weak. He was becoming sick of it. And he wished he had some water.

As if reading his thoughts, Kate brought out a full bottle of water, handing it to him.

"Keep it," he instructed, despite his thirst. He didn't want her sacrifcing herself for him, even if it was only water.

"It's yours," she explained, opening her bag a little show she had brougt two.

Relieved, a smile spread across Jack's face as he took the bottle, grateful. He took a few swallows before letting Kate put the bottle back into her bag. He could've downed the whole thing right then and there, but who knew what complications they'd run into or how far out Kate meant. Soon they were heading out again, still finding themselves in silence. It began to bother him, considering his previous wonders about her behavior; the sudden stops to her visits, or just not seeing her at all. It also scared him that he was so concerned.

"Did you want me to tell you when we were almost there?" Kate asked a few feet ahead.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Jack replied:

"I guess."

"We're almost there," Kate said quickly after, lowering her head as though she were trying to hide herself from him.

Jack looked ahead, bracing himself for whatever it was he was supposed to see. He wondered what he should expect. Kate kept moving forward, heading through some bushes. That's when Jack had to ask.

"What were you doing all the way out here?" He inquired. He couldn't help but to wonder.

She glance back at him, as if asking if he were seriously wondering that. Suddenly he understood: they were looking for him.

"How ironic," he muttered under his breath. They went searching for him and came back with his dead father. Jack was about to consider noting this outload when Kate suddenly stopped. They were there.

She didn't note it outlouad, but Jack knew. He looked around, observing the scenery, taking in everything. Suddenly the smell of the morgue was coming back to him: the smell of the dead. The emptyness he felt upon walking in there, the way the coroner was able to be so calm, so collected, while Jack became a lost cause, suddenly losing it so fast that it came within a wave of confusion. It wasn't until that moment that he had cried for the first time since hearing of his father's death. Because it was then that it would be confirmed. Until there was a body, there was always hope. False hope, it usually ended up being, but hope, nevertheless.

And that's why it had been so important for him to find the body here, on the island. The realization that the body was missing, gone, scared him so much that he had to destroy the coffin. He didn't want it to be there, taunting him. And the more and more he thought about it, the more hope the action gave him. With no coffin and no body, maybe there really was no death. He could convince himself that none of it had been true, that somewhere out there, his father was still alive.

But now... He could feel Kate's eyes on him, watching him as he looked around. What was he supposed to do now? Break down and cry? He could if someone gave him the order to, but he wasn't. Not now, not in front of Kate.

"Where'd you find him?" Jack thought to ask, turning to Kate.

She looked as though she were snapping out of a daze, hand rested on her chin thoughtfully.

"Oh," she said blankly, "there."

Included in the scene was a river, straight across from where Kate's finger was pointed. Jack's heart fell. He stepped towards the river, kneeling down beside it. Glancing upstream to downstream, Jack tried to decipher what this meant. The body had really landed somewhere else. Who knew what happened, who knew how close or far away Jack had originally been to it. And he'd never know. Unless...

"So I guess it was coming from upstream?" Jack inquired, already looking to a path beside the river heading in that direction.

This caught Kate's attention, and her face immediatly contorted with her disapproval.

"No," she said quickly, "it's just a location Jack-" she paused painfully, as though it killed her to have to say it, "he landed here, isn't that enough?"

Deep down he knew it was an insane idea, to send them on a wild goose chase after a location of a body that was no longer there. Not only was it insane, but dangerous. Still, though, it was unfair nontheless. Didn't he deserve to know what happened? Couldn't he be given that one thing?

"No, it's not enough!" Jack exclaimed suddenly, spinning around to face her. "No one told me how to deal with this, Kate. I never got a chance."

"And now you have one!" Kate argued desperatly.

Jack took in a deep breath, fighting to hold himself together. She was right, he knew. He was just avoiding things. Really all he needed was right here in front of him, but part of him just kept insisting that wasn't good enough. Part of him didn't want that to be good enough.

"I just want to know what happened," Jack confessed exasperatly.

"I know," Kate replied quietly, sympathetically. "You will."

Somehow, her words stopped him. He no longer felt the need to argue his useless points. Accepting this, Jack looked away, his eyes finding there way to the sky. With every patients death he would find himself wondering about afterlife, asking questions about death and dying, ones that only the deceased could ever answer. Now he was asking them again about another patient he had failed in saving, another family he had let down. But still Kate's words seemed to calm him, and Jack was really able to take in where they were...and more importantly, what time of day it was. Already shadows were casting low over the jungle, the sky slowly becoming a shade of cloud, the sun disapearing behind it, slipping away quietly as it simply moved on, the only 'being' that could truly be in two places at once, Jack observed, for sometimes the moon would disapear from sight completly, though the sun was always there, somewhere.

"It'll be getting dark soon," Jack noted, "I mean, we could start heading back, but we might get trapped-" he nodded towards the jungle. It was hard to believe their journey was already done with, when just minutes ago the anticiptation of destination lay within him, allowing him to move forward, pushing him despite any weakness he possessed. He was here now, though with knowledge of the truth, he knew that here wasn't really 'here'. "It could get dangerous." He got right to it. "We should make camp."

(space)

The tension that passed between them mixed in well with the flicker of the fire, the flames that danced in their magestic theme brewing an uncomfortable mixture in the air, and as they sat their in silence, engulfing it, the tension trapped them, and finding a way out was proving to be impossible. Shifting weight, Jack tried to make himself comfortable from where he lay on the ground, head practically sitting next to the fire. Exhausted, Jack rested his head on his arms, tempting to find sleep. Not far away sat Kate, who, unlike himself, was sitting up, staring into the fire. When he did that it only made him feel more tired, taunting his failure in slipping away into a peaceful rest, keeping him awake with an ongoing glow, the flames moving ever so slightly in reminder of their presence, as to not let him slip too far away.

"How'd he die?"

His heart nearly leapt out of his chest at the sudden question, and he was so momentarily stunned that at first he didn't know how to answer. Then, far too clearly, he remembered.

"Heart attack," Jack replied solemnly, shifting weight again, looking to the other side of him. Should he tell her the rest? He couldn't decide, trying to draw any consequences before he spoke, predicting what would come out of admitting everything right then and there, telling the whole story. He settled halfway in between: "He was an alcoholic."

She watched him, mouth falling open slightly with the confession. It could've been the last thing she had expected from him, he thought, or maybe the first thing she guessed. She seemed to be able to read him like a book sometimes, knowing when he was lying and blowing his cover before he hardly got a chance. Not talking about himself was something he was so accustomed to that when it became necessary to do so, he wasn't sure how to act. So he would usually push most of it aside, giving what was necessary and stopping when he felt something needed to stay hidden. Just like he was stopping now, turning away from her to avoid her eventually sympathetic eyes...empathetic, had he turned to look.

But eventually looking away became to much: he knew she was still watching him, thinking about what he had said, what that could mean. Sitting up, he ruined her gaze, catching Kate out of the corner of his eye as her eyes quickly darted out of the way, staring deep into the forest.

"My father was an alcoholic too," Kate admitted quietly. He didn't respond. The fact that she used 'father' and not 'dad' didn't pass him, sticking out to him like a thundercloud on a sunny day; a part of your life that you should be so grateful for, so fond but, in most cases, it never turned out that way. And by the way she spoke her confession, her quiet voice that forced itself out of the past, allowing that forbidden part of herself to become revealed to him, he knew it turned out this way for her too. And he realized that the thought of it made him angry.

He didn't know why he asked his next question, it seeming so random, but it slipped out anyway:

"Is he dead too?" Jack asked innocently, glancing towards Kate for a response.

Her answer came in her reaction. She stopped. Darkness came over her, a cold hardened look that stopped Jack's heart as well. The glow of the fire flashed over her face, highlighting her features that read of nothing but a pained and troubled past, and he knew that was as much of an answer as he'd ever get.

Staring in wonder at nothing in particular, Jack found himself looking to the scars on his arms, one suddenly catching his attention. It was a newer one, hardly healed, cut into his skin underneath his elbow. Carelessly he began to pick at it without much thought, examining it as it was the only thing he could give concentration to. He was still so tired and didn't felt like he could stare at the fire much longer, and Kate had already claimed the jungle. He wondered what she was seeing in it, how she could look through it and see a completly different picture than he could. She could do the same with the sea, but he imagened she prefered that vast view of the open ocean to the dark unknown of the jungle.

Suddenly he let out a gasp of pain, and looking down to his arm he realized he had picked the cut back open, like it was a scab. He placed his finger against his skin in attempts to stop the bleeding, but Kate had already jumped to his side at the cry.

"I've got it," Jack assured her, but she didn't move. Settling there, Kate kept her place beside him, and as the bleeding stopped, Jack found his eyes trailing to her, curious. Moments ago she had seemed so deep in thought, so alone. But now she seemed insistant on not moving. She caught his glance then. A smile escaped him as he turned away, cheeks reddening a little. Despite her previous dark demeanor, Kate's lips spread into a smile then as well, amused.

"I was worried about bringing you out here," Kate admited. Jack turned to her in interest. "I mean, they had you for nine months, Jack, and you came back, just like that?" His face hardened with thought, listening to what she was saying carefully. She had a point, and he wished he knew the answer. She turned to him. "And if you escaped-" she met his eyes, a hint of fear and concern flashing across them, "then they're looking for you."

On cue they both looked to the jungle, remembering when Michael was thrown back to them months before, remembering what was happening between them at that time. For Kate that was ages ago, but for Jack it felt like just yesterday.

"Guess that gives me an excuse not to sleep, then," Jack commented lightly over the dark silence. She turned to him warningly, and Jack couldn't help but to smile. "Fine, I'll sleep-" he looked down to the ground below him, "I probably haven't slept for nine months." He couldn't see himself sitting there in a room, cell, wherever, and just _sleeping_. He hardly did that on his own time, let alone while being held captive. Everything, every possibility, every dying idea for escape would be going through his mind 24/7. He didn't need a memory to tell him that.

"I couldn't for two," Kate admitted wearly, suddenly sounding tired herself. She smiled sadly as she looked to the ground as well. "Something like that."

"Didn't that bother Sawyer?" Jack joked lightly.

"Sawyer's not everything," Kate grinned as she turned to him, "but don't tell him that, he doesn't know."

Jack returned the grin at her joke, meeting her eyes again, smiles passing between them. But his eyes lingered to her a moment to long, suddenly Jack found himself trapped in the moment. He didn't know what was coming over him, but he assumed it was built off of everything he'd been feeling over the past few days, and not just over realizing he'd been missing for nine months or over his father's body. It was what he had been feeling about Kate...the eventually realization that had been coming to him for a while now that he couldn't understand, that he couldn't explain. He had tried to put it aside in fear that he'd take it the wrong way, ruin everything. But he was suddenly realizing that barrier had fallen months ago, even if he wasn't mentally aware of it. And now everything was coming back to him too quickly to cover up, too quickly to rebuild that wall, and at that moment he didn't possibly the most stupidest, the most uncomprehensible thing he could've done then: he kissed her.

She pulled away before he even got a chance to consider taking advantage of this insane decision, deepening the kiss or at least letting it last longer that it did. As she turned away from them, pony tail swinging with her, hand flying to her mouth in shock, a mixture of guilt and hurt overwhelmed him. Wiping his taste away from her mouth, she slowly turned towards him, clearly disgusted and overwhelmed herself at this incident she now unwillingly had to deal with. In his mind, Jack fought for an explination to his actions, an answer she would soon demand:

"Why did you do that?" She shot, not loudly but still in a quiet voice, as though she wanted to make sure there wasn't a chance of being overheard.

As that had been the most stupidest and uncomprehensible thing he could've done at that moment, Jack still didn't have an answer. He hardly had an answer for him. Was he that desperate? Was part of him- the part of him that had known he had been held captive, away from the rest of them and her- slowly coming to surface within him?

"I'm with someone now, Jack," Kate said, fighting to keep her anger steady. It both hurt and confused him to see her this upset, this upset ove something he had chosen to do. She turned away from him, back completly to him now, blocking herself from him as she spoke the one thing Jack admittedly didn't want to hear: "I'm not an option anymore."

Silence fell between them. The fire crackled, popping into each of their thoughts as the moment drew on unspoken. He could only stare, hoping some explination would come of it. More guilt burned at his tounge, itching to apologize. But, for some reason, he couldn't. He couldn't say a word. Kate swallowed, shaking her head incredulously as she finally brought herself to speak up again:

"God, why'd you have to screw this up?" She wondered outloud. He wondered if, really, she knew the answer. After all, she made the point to remind him that she was with Sawyer, who would eventually become just another conflict Jack would have to deal with because of that stupid, uncomprehensible choice. She looked to the ground where she had been before, before she made her own stupid choice of coming to him. "I'm gonna go over there."

And she did. They didn't speak again that night, and Jack didn't sleep. She had laid down, her eyes closed, but he wasn't certain she wasn't asleep either. Hell, this probably wasn't even where she wanted to be. She wanted to be with Sawyer, assuring him of her trust and loyality. For him to never know, or to, somehow, know and understand. Maybe he could make him believe that it was his own fault. At least he could do that for her.

(space)

She found him the next morning by the river. When she woke up and he wasn't nearby, apart of her had paniced. What if he had done something stupid? She wanted to make him understand why she did what she had to do. She wanted him to understand it, and she wanted him to accept it. Things could change but not now. Whatever she decided, whatever her heart came to realize, she knew that this kind of change would be as unfair to Sawyer as things were unfair to Jack right now.

Pausing, Kate watched him for a moment as he hesitated before throwing some water on his face, only to wipe it away with his sleeve soon after. Despite that he was busy, he looked mentally preoccupied, like he was really somewhere else. She too hesitated momentarily, feeling guilty about pulling him out of his riverie. Then again, this was all his fault...unless she had mislead him. Either way, she still had to do this.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Kate spoke up, loudly enough to catch his attention.

Jack smiled an ironic smile, shaking his head at her apology.

"I've been yelled at worse than that," he informed her. When he turned to her Kate caught sight of the bags around his eyes, a sign that he, in fact, hadn't slept. But who could really blame him? Hell, she had probably put so much guilt on him that he wouldn't sleep for the rest of the week. "And I deserved it."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he refused to give her a chance.

"You were right," Jack admitted, "I'm sorry."

She closed her eyes, turning to the ground. The words seemed so familiar to her, and she knew why. It was the same thing she had said to him after their first kiss, assuming it was what he wanted to hear. And now he was doing the same thing.

"Who knows," Jack said lightly, glancing around the jungle, "maybe I have some secret girlfriend waiting for me back with the Others-" he grinned, "like _Romeo and Juliet_."

She had to admire him for handling this so well, or at least on the outside. Smiling sadly at his words, Kate tried not to look too bothered. She had yet to consider how much of a life Jack actually had with the Others. After all, he had been there for nine months. But what if that life didn't agree with the one he had here? And what if, somehow, the two lives met? She couldn't help but to feel bad for him. Maybe one of the reasons he kissed her was to have that one thing still be there, one constant in all of this.

"I had this weird dream last night," Jack went on, not giving another thought to the topic. He's hiding something, she decided. How he really feels. He didn't want her to know, he didn't want to put that burden on her. Nevertheless, she listened. "I was in some room-" he looked confused as he talked. She was at least relieved to know that he had slept...the last thing she needed was to know that he was depriving himself of sleep over what she had said, "except it was like I wasn't really there. I couldn't see myself...but my father was there." He watched ground in confusion, absolutly puzzled by what he was saying. "He was talking to me...telling me something. Something about being okay."

Then she understood his confusion. Whatever assurance his father had given him in his dream had been so unfamiliar that he wasn't sure what to make of it. She frowned in sympathy. If his father, the alcoholic, had been anything like hers, she more than understood what he was going through. Never in her life could she remember recieving any kind of reassurance from Wayne, even as a kid: the horrific storms that would roll through their town, an occasional injury. When Tom moved away.

But it wasn't as though she expected this of him.

Jack shook his head, still unable to make anything of it. Again he looked around the jungle. She wondered if he was expecting to see something there.

"We should get going," he announced.

Kate nodded. Sawyer had already been unhappy enough about her going. Her stomach churned at the thought of him. She didn't know how she was going to tell him or if she even was. And after she had promised him her trust...

It was all she could do to bring herself to go back, not knowing what would happen next. She wondered if Jack knew...would he avoid her, like she had been avoiding him the past day in hopes of avoiding exactly the kind of confrontation that happened the night before.

If Jack had kissed her in order to keep things constant, then they were certainly on a different page. Because Kate couldn't see how anything could go back to the way it was, not without someone being hurt: Sawyer, Jack, or her.

(space)

"You ready?" He asked her.

Juliet was shoved out of the building. She bit back a cry of surprise, catching her balance as she came into step as they excited the hatch. Before she got a chance to answer she was grabbed roughly, forced to face Tom, or better known to her as Mr. Friendly.

"Why'd you help him escape?" He demanded.

She looked up to him, puzzled and afraid. Being outside was such an unfamiliar thing that she was already growing sick from the effect of it. She was skinnier than she could ever remember being in her life, and with that came a weakness she felt with every step. Every change that had come to her came unwillingly: the weight, the weakness. The fear. That constant worry of someone coming after her, of there being no one there for her. Not anymore.

"_We_ escaped," Juliet corrected, having difficulty in finding her voice. She'd refused to speak for three days, though he was normally the only one she agreed to talk to anyway. He was the only normal one there. Most of the time. "Together."

Her eyes began to water at the thought of their failure, or at least hers. Had he been able to get to safety? Or was he wondering around the jungle as they spoke, completly lost, hurt, exhausted? Practically on the edge of death...?

"Then you'll find him again," Tom decided, "you know the deal."

She cringed as he let her go. The deal...she hated to have to make it, but she had to for her own safety. For her own hope. And she had to succeed, or else that one little ounce of hope would be lost forever. She would be lost forever. If she failed, she didn't know what would come of her, if she could handle it.

Giving her a nod, Tom let her begin her own path into the jungle. She didn't know her way around, but they had given her a general direction.

"The disease is worse than the treatment," Tom's voice spoke up from being her. She stopped, looking down as she was forced to listen to him. Frankly she was too afraid not to. Any kind of trust was something she found hard to allow herself. "The remedy is worse than the disease-" a pause, and then: "the consequence will be worse this time."

His message was simple: she couldn't fail. But it was nothing she hadn't decided already. She couldn't let things continue on like this. She had to do this. She'd go out there and she wouldn't leave until she found him, until she found who she was looking for. Until she found Jack.

**Author's Note:** Thanks sooo much for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	6. Mr Brightside

Life Interrupted

Chapter Six

**Author's Note: **So I think I gave you guys a shout-out to _Fated_, for those of you who read...I'm not sure though, because oddly enough, I searched through(I believe) nearly every chapter of _Fated_ and couldn't find the scene...

Also! This chapter begins a series of memories and flashback told by various characters, reaccounting the time while Jack's been gone. These memories/flashbacks won't always be written into the chapter like they are here, nor will they necessarily be something the character is recalling at that moment, as in the show. Sometimes a chapter will be solely memory/flashback, and sometimes a chapter will start out with one or end with one. Hope you guys enjoy them:)

**Disclaimer: **"Mr. Brightside" was originally done by The Killers, however, the version in my ending was done by Marty Casey on the show Rockstart: INXS. I believe the accustic version has been done before, but from what I see Marty Casey rearranged the lyrics for his performance. I've seen quite a few arrangement of the song while searching for lyrics, but I decided to use his version based on the vocal and accustic performance and lyric arrangment(his fits better with the story told in my story). Also, major Killers or Marty Casey fans may notice that I use "a cage" and not "my cage". Since "a cage" is what Marty says on the The Best of Rock Star: INXS, and I said I was using that version(I assuming they got the rights to rearrange the song and change that lyric), that's what I chose to use. Also, the reason the "I never"s are in parenthesis is because there is some more italic stuff going on in the ending and I didn't want to confuse you guys(you should understand when you get there). Basically, "I never" isn't part of what's going on at that moment in the ending.

**Chapter Six: **Mr. Brightside

Relieved was an emotion he was surprised to be feeling once they got back. Ignoring any questions, Jack simply got some water and slipped quietly down the beach, though not far. He was headed towards the graveyard, and as he went he realized that he was hoping that Kate wouldn't be there. She may have apologized, but the 'incident' had confirmed more than it offered. Kate was right, she was with somebody now. Even if he could fully admit that he felt something towards Kate, the confession would be useless. And it made him furious. It was just so _unfair_ it felt surreal. Nine months gone, and his life was changed forever. He didn't even have an explanation.

The many gravestones- including his- coming into view, Jack saw that Kate wasn't there, but someone else was. A woman, blonde, lounging carelessly at the head of the graves, reading. Like she wasn't in a graveyard but the library. Not only at the fact that he didn't recognize the woman, Jack's eyebrows shot up in question as he approached the graves.

"Hope I'm not interrupting," Jack commented, stepping on the soft ground, the primary reason the graves had been placed at that spot back starting with Scott's death.

The woman looked up to him, frowning at his appearance.

"Not at all," she replied, "Jack, right?"

Jack laughed a little, finding it amusing that even after eleven months he still didn't know everyone. Truthfully, though, it wasn't amusing. It was sad.

"Yeah," he answered anyway.

Studying him, the woman sat her book down. Jack noticed what she was reading: _The Stand _by Stephen King.

"You're the one who's been missing," she pointed out before Jack could comment on the book.

Hesitating, Jack pitied himself for a moment before replying:

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry," the woman said softly, honest. The comment took him aback for a moment. He wondered how much others, besides Kate and maybe Sawyer, had thought about his disappearance. How much they cared. "I'm Cassandra."

Jack offered Cassandra a small smile.

"Not Cassy?" He mused.

Cassandra smiled sadly, looking to the ground as she admitted:

"Me grandmother used to call me that."

Leaving it at that, she left Jack to wonder. He let a moment pass by, but soon had to speak up again, silence lasting longer than he hoped it would.

"Mind if I have a seat?" Jack asked at last. Cassandra shook her head and he sat down. He noticed then what her reason for being there must've been, why she was sitting alone in this graveyard instead of somewhere less depressing. That was definitely what Jack felt, sitting here, at least. All these lives having been failed...a few by him. It almost made his situation seem grateful, knowing how worse it could be. But it almost was that worst. He could remind himself of that when he spotted the head of his own gravestone, or whether, memorial, not far away. Was Kate here every day, grieving at the thought of his dead body laying in some unknown location? Or was she somehow able to receive the closure needed to treat the site so easily as to sit down and read? Or was he completely overestimating her feelings? Glancing up, Jack found himself asking about the name on the grave in front of them, wondering if maybe it could even lead to some answers he was wanting. "Did you know her?"

Margaret Smith was the name on the cross. Jack couldn't help but to note the similarities to his mother's name, Margot. Secretly, he'd always thought that was a horrible name.

"She was my sister," Cassandra admitted, a small smile spreading across her face, the warm beauty of it clearing away the sadness of his previous question.

"I'm sorry," Jack said sincerely. So many questions could come next. Did she die because he, the doctor, wasn't there to help save her? Did Cassandra have to suffer the sadness alone, or was someone kind enough to sit along with her, offer her sympathy? At least at first thought, Jack himself had always hated sympathy, as it reminded him of what he couldn't do for himself, but he knew first hand that, no matter how much pride you had, it was always received gratefully, in time. "Eleven months," Jack began again, "and you still come here?"

Pausing thoughtfully first, Cassandra nodded.

"Yeah."

"So then it's not bad that my eyes still water every time I think of my dad?" Jack joked, only half-lying.

Cassandra looked more concerned than amused. In fact, she rememinded him of Kate just then. A blonde Kate. And somehow, that comparison sparked a familiarity within him, maybe he had made that same exact relation before, with someone else, but he couldn't put a finger on who.

"There's no right way to deal with death, Jack," Cassandra said quietly, seriously as though it were a personal offense that he'd suggest such a thing.

She drew quiet then, looking to the ground and leaving him at that. He considered her words, remembering back to the first weeks on the island. Things had been so hectic that it was almost too easy to push aside his own problems, busying himself by taking case of everyone else's first. But now things were different, slower, and time seemed to be catching up to him in small steps, ready to meet him whether or not he was ready for it. Of course, even in the previous life that's how things went, especially with his dad.

"I'm gonna go," Cassandra announced suddenly, before he even got to attempt to ask a question. Looking up to her, Jack questioned her quick departure.

"I can go," Jack offered with for interfering with her morning.

Cassandra quickly shook her head, sweeping up her book and tucking it safely under her arm. Finally slowing, she offered him a smile:

"It's nice here alone," she said as though it were an explanation, and winked before hurrying away.

Jack looked after her, but only for a moment before turning away. He found himself starring at Margaret's grave, his questions still ringing in his mind. But he still had other puzzles to piece together first. Getting to his grave, Jack stood up, only to plant himself back on the ground a few feet away. Kneeling, Jack studied the cross over his father's grave before running a finger over the name, taking in every detail about the spot. A dead flower led beside the cross, though Jack couldn't tell if it was supposed to be for himself or for his dad. He thought then about everything back at home...home, the place feeling so far away. All his father's things that were still at his house. Had his mother boxed it all up right now, maybe even sold some of it? Or was everything still laid out in perfect order, never even touched? Jack thought about it, really thought about it, and in his head he could picture his father's offices- the one at home and at the hospital- having been in them both countless times. He remembered being a child and being in awe of the maze of awards on the wall, at the same time terrified of the same expectation that he was being given. He remembered being puzzled at the lack of pictures or other family acknowledgments, while on television all fathers seemed to have pictures of their kids and wive sprawled across their desk. He remembered being frustrated at the rule of no eating or drinking in the office at home, when his father's liquor cabinet was obviously located behind his desk. Later it would move for easier reach.

And then he grew up and there was a new office to be in wonder of. Being in a top position himself at the hospital, Jack had his own office, but his father's still had that interesting bare look about it, a look that made you wonder what was so wrong with the occupant's life that he didn't want to make note of. He didn't like to think of it, for the only thing that was wrong in it was he himself. The memories coming back to him, a tear nearly escaped from his eye, path interrupted by a sudden rustle of leaves and Kate's footsteps approaching him from nearby.

"Hey," said her soft voice, flowing to him with the wind as she crossed her arms, head tilted and mouth firm with sympathy. She stepped towards him cautiously, as though he were a dangerous animal that could leap any moment towards potential prey.

Quickly pulling himself together, Jack leaned back casually in the grass. He didn't respond, but he didn't protest as she continued to walked towards him. Yes, he would've rather her not been there right now, but he didn't want to scare her away either. He didn't want her to think that he had given up.

"Shouldn't you be with Sawyer?" He remarked, smirking a little in his amusement. He scooted over as she sat down, looking grim.

"It's funny," Kate said, not sounding amused at all, "every time I'm with Sawyer he talks about you, and every time I'm with you you talk about Sawyer."

"Flattering," Jack snorted sarcastically, "never knew he liked me so much."

Kate frowned. Reaching down, she chose a flower from an assorted batch on the ground and began picking it apart, piece by piece, ripping away its still energy. Jack watched her, becoming entranced with the simple process, unnecessarily fascinated with how simple the death process was of the plant.

"I'm sick of it," Kate whispered, letting all the left over pieces of the flowers fall to the ground from her hand.

She stared to the ground then, quiet. He wondered if that was all she came to say. The simple fact that he wasn't the only one with a problem here, and Jack knew it. Really, it was selfish for him to consider himself in the most unfair of positions, but he was just so angry over it that the feeling came out. For him to come back into this situation with no knowledge of why he was reentering felt like an incredulous process, the procedure almost tortmenting.

"I saw the suitcase," Jack admited, filling Kate's silence. He cleared his throat. "The one with my stuff in it."

Kate didn't react, her expression remaining solemn and silent. She stared at the ground, turned away from him and still though Jack could see in her eyes that she was effected by his announcement.

"What happened?" He went on. "What happened to make you think that I was dead?"

He wondered if he knew they had given up on him while in captivity, how that had effected him. It had to be torture, knowing that there was no hope. Knowing that those he put his faith in had left him in the dark, thrown him to the side of the road. They'd moved on.

"You just never came back." Her voice was still soft, quiet in its sad explanation.

"There had to be more to it," Jack protesting, urging further explanation.

"Just shut up, Jack."

So taken aback by her sudden remark, Jack couldn't bring himself to argue, closing his mouth mid-reply until he was finally able to pull himself back together. He was even more curious now...how traumatizing had it been for Kate to learn that he was dead?

"I don't deserve to know what happened?"Jack snapped. "I don't deserve to get any answers?" She didn't reply. "What the hell happened, Kate?"

"You were dead!" Kate cried, turning to him, eyes wide and watering. Her tone was so fierce, so built-up that it had the strength to shove him back, insulting his curiosity.

He considered where he was, what she was saying. He should be more sympathetic, he knew. He should've tried to understand. But he couldn't. Because it wasn't true anymore, yet Kate was still acting like his body should be buried beneath them, covered by six feet of protective earth. Getting to his feet, Jack swiftly announced:

"I'm not dead now."

Bending over, Jack pulled at the cross with his name on it, tugging until it was uprooted from the ground. Kate watched, clearing not agreeing but not protesting, simply following his movements with her vacant stare, following him until he disapeared into the jungle, cross tucked carelessly underneath his arm.

_The nights had been humid since he had been gone. Muggy mornings that mysteriously appeared from dry nights. Storm clouds in the air that fought with the atmosphere, attempting to break free, only to drift away and disapear. It was as though the weather was waiting for him to fix it, like everything else. It'd been two weeks since they'd left him behind, and still Kate hated herself for it, and still she found it impossible to move on until they knew he was safe. Two weeks seemed like a short time in the bulk of things, but she and Sayid had already begun feeling the pressure of the demands to Jack, especially with the horryfing injuries Desmond, Eko, and Locke had received during the accident in the hatch. Already Jack was needed again, but even more he was missed._

_And night had dawned on them once again, marking yet another day of Jack's disaperance. Rescue attempts had been made and rescue attempts had failed. Soon they were forced to stop and rest, as the camp still needed a leader. She found herself trapped in the role, and once Kate fell into it she refused to step out, taking on every duty and request that came upon her. It exhausted her, draining every ounce of energy that could've been used to save Jack, but she never complained, following Jack's simular philosophy. At first things had been so rushed that Kate didn't have time to reflect on her chore, what Jack considered a career, but eventually she felt haunted. Like she was being watched, like the island knew something was off. Like she wasn't herself, like this wasn't really happening. But with every new moon and every dawn of sunrise reality hit, and days were mentally chopped off the calendar._

_Keeping herself busy with Jack's chores helped keep her mind busy as well, but at night she had nothing to do but to think. She still lived at the beach, but sometimes she would find herself sneaking off to the hatch, as though she would still find him there. Smiling, wondering what she was doing out this late. _

_She couldn't explain, couldn't pin-point exactly why his disapearance was effecting them so much, effecting her so much. Maybe it was because they were being deprived of that one person who could care for them all, who wanted to be there for them. For her. Still that thought scared her, as did every recent snap of twig and shake of branch. Including one that cut into her thoughts now. But she couldn't think quick enough, the thought still in her mind that it would be Jack stepping through the trees, that it would be Jack's footsteps that were approaching her, and that it would be Jack's shadow that was emerging over her right now. But sudden darkness told her it wasn't._

_The bag was over her head before she could react. Squirming and fighting to get away, Kate felt Mr. Friendly's firm grip bruise her skin until the gun was pointed at her neck: she could feel its barrel against her skin. Her hands forced behind her, Kate stiffined into his hold._

_"Where is he?" Kate demanded fiercly, the bag just far away from her face to allow her to speak. He didn't answer. Anger fired within Kate, pumping through her veins and sending her swirling around violently, fighting against Mr. Friendly's hold and sending him stumbling back a little, thrusting the bag off her head. "Where is he!"_

_The familiar image of Mr. Friendly stood in front of her, beardless and seeming quite out-of-place on the calm beach, unconviently vaccant. She wondered if anyone would hear her if she screamed. But then again, if he took her maybe he'd take her to Jack. At least she'd know then what was going on, and they could get out of this situation together. Escaping from this man was the reason Jack was alone now, was the reason that the unbarable amount of guilt haunted her every night, ridding her from sleep and rest._

_"I came here for a favor," Mr. Friendly(she couldn't bring herself to call him 'Tom', though she found the name ironic), ignoring her._

_She ignored him as well. Throwing herself forward, Kate used all the strength she could muster to knock Mr. Friendly to the ground, hands clinging to his neck, threatening to choke, to kill, him. But she didn't have the advantage for long. With rough grace she was thrown to the side, a gun once again at her neck before she could fight back. She would've grabbed for the gun, but it was dug so deeply into her skin that it would've been too much of a risky move were she to fail, and she was no good to Jack dead. And who knew what kind of backup Friendly had hidden in the trees. Suddenly she remembered the night they caught the first time, and she shivered, remembering the utter look of disapointment on Jack's face. Betrayel. His refusal to speak afterwards. Blinking, Kate forced the memory away, though she would later fight to savor it, fight to have any memory of him she could. Any thought of him would bring hope of his return, and hope was what she was living on. Hope, determination, and regret. A desperate need for redemption. All of it moved her forward, and all of it attempted to push her fears of the Others away, reminding herself to concentrate on the possible opportunity at hand. She could already see herself sending Friendly back to his own camp at gunpoint, demanding to be taken to Jack. It'd be a rescue worthy for a hero, and maybe then she could finally really be on Jack's level. There was a difference between accepting that didn't have to the case and actually being able to be there._

_"If you know anything about my friend," she heard him smirk, "_Henry_, you know that he's a man of deals."_

_"I don't care-"_

_He shoved her further into the ground, a gasp escaping her before she could help it._

_"A deal that might interest you," Friendly went on, letting his irritablity show. "We're going to need your doctor friend-"_

_"Jack." Kate cut in fiercly. "He's not an animal...you have no right-"_

_"We have every right," Friendly interrupted, a smug smirk on his face, "you don't know the rights we have. And this deal with Jack, we can make it or not. I just thought you might want a say on how it all ends up."_

_Kate froze at the term 'ends up'. There was no doubt that Friendly was hinting at death, and if there really was a way she could stop that, she would._

_"So anyway," Friendly went on, his voice rasing to ignore her silent repsonse, "we need some more time with Jack."_

_"You can't have him!" Kate cried out before she could stop herself, forgetting her previous decision to coopercate. More time? It had already been two weeks! _

_"You might want to hear the other end of the bargain first," Friendly warned, doing her the curtasy of contuing despite her constant interruptions. "You give us 'til the end of the month, and we'll bring your doctor friend back. Our promise."_

_Kate hardly allowed herself to consider the proposal._

_"Where is he?" She demanded, still determined to get herself- and most importantly, Jack, out of this._

_"He's safe," Friendly informed her. She stopped. His reply actually sounded sincere, no act involved._

_"Until the end of the month?" Kate questioned uncertainly. Maybe this could be a good move. It would keep the Other's eyes off of the castaways while they could form a plan, and maybe their coopercation would be benefiting Jack's health as well...she didn't want to think about what could happen if she were to disagree. Maybe they wouldn't even care. Maybe not._

_"The end of the month," Friendly confirmed with a nod._

_Kate drew in a quick breath. Despite her reasons, agreeing to this plan was putting more weight on her shoulders than she'd ever care to have. Jack's life could literally be in her hands right now, and he would probably never know._

_"Just let me tell you," Friendly went on suddenly, "if you disagree, we can have your doctor back in a week."_

_Her heart stopped in hope, but her mind twist in confusion._

_"Then what's the point of the deal?" She inquired, puzzled. Something about the idea seemed off to her...was it even official? She knew, from what she saw with the Others, that Friendly didn't have as much power as they thought he did, if he had any at all. _

_"Because we can't gurantee the condition in which he will return."_

_She could practically hear the smirk forming from his mouth. The expression sickened her, sending disgusted shivers up her spine. The weight of the gun suddenly doubled then; it felt like a brick was being pressed against her neck. She felt choked, pressured, and she knew the decision she had to made. The one that was best for him._

_"Okay," Kate agreed at last, "until the end of the month."_

_No matter what she would agree to, Kate knew that no one, especially herself, would want to just wait around until time was up. Jack had done to much for them- for her- to deserve that kind of treatment._

_"It was nice doin' buisness with you," Friendly commented, "you may want to keep this between you and me."_

_A sudden kick to her ribs sent her rolling, tumbling to a stop a few feet away, gasping for breath. Momentarily disordenated, mind in a whirl over the whole incident, Kate could hardly concentrate on where Friendly was headed for in the jungle. Vision blured, sides burning in a fiery pain, Kate struggled to stand before breaking into an uneven sprint into the jungle. She stopped only a couple of yards away from the beach to look around. It was dark, she couldn't see a thing. Grasping her swolling side she crouched to the ground to search for footprints, desperately squinting in the moonlight to make out any sign of a trail. There was none. Friendly was missing. And so was Jack._

_----_

_She winced as she touched her bruised skin, secluding herself within the hatch's walls to examine her injuries. The place was a mess, kitchen appliances, books, records, and computer equipment thrown everywhere. It was cold too. Freezing._

_ Blue, yellow, and black splotches dotted the skin over her ribs. She didn't have much skin on her anyway, as living on an island didn't provide many opportunities for gaining weight, and from her diagnosis she predicted at least a broken rib and bruised arm. She wished Jack were here(of course, if he were she wouldn't of been in this condition to begin with), and she tried to put his voice in her head to tell her what was wrong and how to fix it, but she couldn't. All she could think of was the look of sheer betrayel and hatred he must've had when he came back to their "cell", only to find that he had been left alone with the burden of captivity. How completely hurt he must've looked to find out those he thought were on his side were leaving him alone. Leaving him to them._

_"What the hell happened to you?"_

_She jumped at Sawyer's demanding voice, wincing at the pain of the sudden movement._

_"Nothing," she lied quickly, letting her shirt drop to cover her stomach and turning so that her bruised arm face opposite of him._

_"Didn't look like nothing," Sawyer argued, face contorted in disbelief at her obvious reply. "You been playing with that paint Desmond had down here?"_

_"Yeah, I was trying to mix yellow and black," Kate remarked sarcastically, rolling her eyes with a grin on her face, lying through her teeth, "I thought it'd make purple. It's definetely this place's color."_

_"Stop kidding around!" Sawyer snapped, angry. His seriousness stopped her. A while after Jack had been gone, it really must've hit Sawyer what they had done. Gone was his wity comic relief(it was there, but no longer appealing) and sense of humor. His concern stopped her, but not only because of his sudden care, but because at that moment, Kate thought he sounded exactly like Jack. As she looked across the room she wasn't seeing Sawyer, but it was Jack that was staring back at her, hands on his hips and face hardened with worry and anger at her refusal to tell the truth. She knew it was never anger just because she wasn't telling, but because he cared. He was just so concerned with his need to save and heal that it would come off the wrong way. But now Jack was the one needing saving, and after what she did she had no right to complain. Even before tonight she didn't. She had agreed to leave him there, with them. She hadn't liked it, but she agreed. She'd let herself be convinced it was for the best, that everything would be okay. But it wasn't, and Kate was still waiting for the storm to clear._

_"I just fell," Kate nearly complained, anxious to get away and begin forming her game plan. But as she turned away she gave herself away, the bruises on her arm sticking out in clear view to Sawyer. Grabbing her wrist, he jerked her back._

_"Who grabbed you?" He demanded, furious._

_"No one," Kate insisted, squirming under his grip to get away._

_"Who grabbed you?" Sawyer repeated, tightening his grip on her hand. _

_With force he met her eyes, and Kate was forced to surrender._

_"Friendly," she admited quietly, looking to the ground. _

_His hand fell from hers immediatley, almost throwing her to the side. A curse escaped him underneath his breath, and Sawyer wasted no time with investigation._

_"What the hell did he want?" Sawyer inquired. Seeing this determination and serious about him still threw her. Kate knew that, two months ago, Sawyer could've cared less about Jack's disapearance, and his concern made her wonder what there was she did know about his and Jack's friendship. If you could call it a friendship. "What'd he say about Jack?"_

_"He's okay," Kate answered honestly, "for all it's worth...I've got go find Sayid."_

_"Sayid?" Sawyer questioned, following her as she left the room. If anyone were to help her, it would be Sayid. He was probably the most capable out of all of them in situations like these, and he had the advantage of rarely letting things become personal. That side of him slipped sometimes, but Kate found it hard to feel that vibe from him when Sayid hardly put up a fight in leaving Jack behind._

_"I need his help," Kate explained._

_"And not mine?" Sawyer retorted angrily. "What does he have that I don't?"_

_Kate sighed. Truthfully she would've loved to be able to take up the rescue mission on her own. Of anything, it was a necessetiy for saving any kind of relationship she and Jack still had. Her leaving him behind didn't help the fact that their relationship was still rocky and in desperate need of fixing. And she did want to fix it. She just wasn't sure how to admit that, and now she had waited too long. But if she could have another chance..._

_But if she got Sayid's help, it was possible he wouldn't want to do this mission alone with her, and if she needed another person she wanted the one other who she could- most of the time- really trust._

_"Okay," she agreed relucantly, "you can come."_

_----_

_"Until the end of the month!" Sawyer cried furiously, frustrated._

_It was all Kate could do to keep herself together during her explanation. The looks on both Sayid and Sawyer's faces kept ensuring her worry of having made the wrong decision, and now Sawyer's outrage wasn't helping._

_"It's not that bad!" Kate defended, though she had no intention of letting Jack stay with the Others during that time._

_"It's only December seventh," Sayid informed sternly._

_Her mouth went dry. 'Until the end of the month'...how could she have been so stupid as to not consider what time it was now? December seventh...that gave them three weeks. Three weeks without having a clue where Jack was, if he was safe, or if he was even alive. She couldn't handle it, and she didn't want Jack to have to either._

_"It doesn't matter," Kate concluded, shaking herself out of it, "I'm going after him."_

_"Going after him?" Sayid repeated in disbelief._

_Kate turned to him in anger. The one person she was counting on..._

_"Yeah," Kate snapped, "sorry if I care about what happens to him."_

_"I do too," Sayid said defensivly, "but we need to learn more about these people."_

_"We know enough!" Kate exclaimed fiercly. After all that had happened, no way was she going to sit here and let Sayid say that. No way was she going to let him sit here and refuse to save someone. "I'm going after him with or without you. I just thought you might want to know."_

_She knew they weren't used to seeing her this angry and upset, so it was no surprise to her how taken aback Sayid looked at her remark._

_"We need to know them to defeat them," Sayid went on, despite her outburst, "we hardly know where they are!"_

_That was a lie. They knew where they were headed, they knew the side of the island the Others were on. Why Sayid was making excuses she didn't know, but it wasn't going to stop her._

_"I'm going with or without you," she repeated firmly, staring coldly at Sayid._

_Stepping forward, Kate tensed a little, glaring at Sayid coldly as he placed his hands on her shoulders assuringly._

_"It'll be okay," he said, voice now more controlled and soothing, "we'll get him back, but we have to have a plan. A good plan. If we fail at saving him...it could be a danger to all of us." Taking a deep breath before going on, Sayid let this sink in. "But we we'll get him back."_

_As he looked her in the eye, Kate suddenly found herself understanding his theory. Maybe he was even right. Jack wouldn't want them to put others in danger for himself, and it wouldn't comfort him to know they did. She wanted him back, but Sayid was right, they needed a plan that would work. And if Kate had to wait a day, she could handle it. She might get to be a wreck, but it'd just put more determination on her behalf afterwards. Plus, it'd get the Others to believe that they were truly going to hold up their end of the deal. So, relucantly, Kate opened her mouth to agree:_

_"Okay."_

_It'd be the biggest regret of her life._

----

The sun low in the sky, a nice shade was coloring the beach, highlighting the busy day going on. As Jack walked the camp, he found himself in awe of how much the place had really become a home to these people. He saw multiple stations for food, for laundry, everything so much more sophistically organized than before. With everything in order, there was hardly the chaos they had before. But one thing he didn't expect to see was Bernard leaning over someone who was lying in an airplane chair, looking like he was pulling something out of someone's mouth. Frowning in curiosity, Jack changed paths, heading towards them.

"You're good," Bernard confirmed to Scott, who was clutching his mouth in pain. Looking amused, Bernard just smiled at the man, turning to Jack as he wiped his hands on a towel. "Never thought I'd see that on a deserted island."

"What?" Jack replied lightly. "Bad breath?"

"No," Bernard said with a smile, "a thirty year old man crying over a dentist."

Jack grinned.

"You're never too old to be afraid to go to the doctor," he joked, knowing the truth of that all too well.

"You've got that right," Bernard agreed. He was happier than Jack had ever seen him before. The last he heard Bernard was making desperate attempts for rescue. Taking a sip of water first, Bernard asked: "Anything I can do for you?"

Jack considered it. Maybe Bernard could help him...

"Actually," Jack decided, "yeah. You doing anything for the next few hours?"

----

"Hope you're not afraid of the dentist," Bernard teased, crouching down to Jack's level on the chair.

"Only because it was my dad doing the dental work," Jack admitted.

"Your dad was a dentist?" Bernard inquired curiously.

"Chief of surgery," Jack replied with bitterness, flinching slightly when he felt the untensils Bernard had been using hit his teeth, "he hated professional competition. Thought he could do it all himself for awhile."

"Well he didn't do a very good job," Bernard commented, frowning as he angled his mirror for better lighting. With the back of a fork, he pointed out different spots inside Jack's mouth. "You've got a cavity here, here, and a gold tooth here." He flinched slightly as the fork touched the tender spots, but it was the last one that caught his attention the most.

"Gold tooth?" Jack repeated, puzzled.

"Like if you lost a tooth," Bernard explained, "unless you have a secret life as a rap star." He offered Jack a smile, but Jack hardly chuckled.

"I've never had a gold tooth in my life," Jack informed, stunned by the discovery. Bernard's face contorted back into the serious, concerned one of a doctor or dentist, his arms crossing as he studied Jack for truth. "Let me see."

Taking the mirror out of Bernard's hand, he held it to his mouth. He pried opened his mouth, avoiding a small scar across his lip, to reveal- surely enough- a spot of gold where a fully-grown tooth should've been. He looked up to Bernard in horrific confusion, unable to ignore the realization this brought on: whoever the Others were, whatever happened, if they were able to perform a surgery like this on this island, then it was terrifying to consider what else they were up against.

----

"You can't do that," Kate accused, swiping Sawyer's cards off the ground.

"And why the hell not?" Sawyer growled, irritated at Kate's constant cutting into his card moves.

Kate grinned slyly.

"Because I'm going to win anyway," she announced, proudly displaying her hand of cards.

"A full house?" Sawyer exclaimed. "Hell, just because Jacko's back doesn't mean you have share his exaggerated greatness with us all."

Kate smirked but didn't respond. There it was again, the constant mention of Jack.

"What the hell's going on with you, anyway?" Sawyer inquired, adding a few more sticks to their fire. The night sky around them signaled another day gone, but now Kate could truly enjoy the cool, crisp atmostphere of the island's nights, or even the humidity of brewing storms. Even though there seemed to be a brick of conflict that came with Jack's return, she was still relieved to have him back. To know he was safe. "Ever since you came back from that hike of yours you've been running back to me like a spare mut lookin' for shelter from the storm."

Kate shrugged.

_I'm coming out of a cage_

_And I've been doing just fine_

_Gotta gotta gotta be down_

_Because I want it all_

How did it end up like this

It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss

"I'm just glad to be back," she lied, "it's risky out there, you know. Knowing what could happen. Not knowing what could happen." Honestly, she didn't know which was more terrifying to consider.

Sawyer snorted.

"Next it'll be breakfast and bed and offerin' to clean my feet." Sawyer smirked. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

Sawyer winked, but Kate wasn't amused. She had yet to tell him about the kiss, even though it shouldn't of been a big deal. She told Sawyer that her heart was truly with him, but if so, why did that kiss- which she didn't even respond to- bother her so much? Did she regret not responding to it? Should she depend on avoidance to help her get over it? That didn't even help when she really did respond to their first kiss.

_I just can't look it's killing me_

_And taking control_

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Sawyer questioned in a low and suspensful voice that seemed to demand and answer.

Looking down, Kate swallowed, preparing herself for the confession. If she continued to lie, with him obviously thinking there was something wrong, then that wouldn't help things either. She was stuck, and there only seemed to be one logical way out.

"Jack kissed me," Kate admitted quietly, bracing herself for his outburst.

Quick to not disapoint her, a curse immediately escaped him. Kate continued looking down, wishing she could just melt away into the sand, gradually die with the fire.

_Jealousy, turning saints into the sea_

_Swimming through sick lullabies_

_Choking on your alibis_

_But it's just the price I pay_

_Destiny is calling me_

_Open up my eager eyes_

"I thought he knew where he stood in this," Sawyer growled, his anger slipping away with each word.

"He does," Kate agreed, a hint of regret in her voice. Sawyer realized what she was saying. He knew after she told him off about it.

"Bet you hated having to say that," Sawyer went on intemidatingly.

"I didn't," Kate defended quickly, shaking her head as she scooted away from him, trying to avoid the fury in Sawyer's eyes, "just leave it alone."

"Now why should I do that?" Sawyer said, slurring his words. Kate stared further into the ground, desperate for a break. It was like she didn't know how to answer him anymore, and it confused the hell out of her. "Whatever happened to that trust thing you kept going on about?" His eyes narrowed with the excitment of knowing he had her stumped. "You know, all that 'I love you' crap?"

His words stopped her.

"I never said that," Kate said quickly, voice dry with a sudden fear. This was going too far for her liking, as all of her relationships tended to do. They'd start out slow and innocent, but sometimes they'd move along too fast too quickly. She'd cut the other person off out of this same fear, when there would be no reason for fear in the first place. Dealing with relationship was something she was never taught, she had to learn it on her own, thus not knowing the rights and wrongs of them would throw her for more loops than her stomach could handle. And she'd run.

"But do you?" Sawyer challenged, eyes twinkling until they darkned until a much more solemn, more deep orbs of emotion. He was dead serious now, entierly sincere. "Do you love me?"

_I'm Mr. Brightside_

Eyes settled on her, Sawyer waited for his answer. She didn't have one. She loved that she had been able to turn to him, learn to trust him like she had for the past nine months. She loved that he had become able to do the same to her. For nine months they'd grown close, him seeing her at her worse and ever worser. She'd been grateful for whatever kind of help she could get from him, and through that she'd been able to eventually overcome the anger and crisis that had come with losing Jack. But yet she remained quiet, unsure of what to say. She didn't want to hurt him like she had others, and she didn't want her answer to turn out as a lie. She didn't want to realize the next day that she was wrong, she didn't love him, and she didn't want for that realization to change everything between them like it could.

"A guy becomes close with a girl over nine months," Sawyer added quietly, barely audible, "I think he deserves to know if she loves him."

A lump developed in her throat. This would be such a big thing for him, if she were to say what he wanted her to say. It wouldn't be just a quick three words and a kiss of thanks. It'd be freedom from a lifetime of darkness, a true new beginning. Ultimately, it would be what both of them were looking for: redemption. Acceptance. Love. So why couldn't she answer? What was her answer? And until she figured it out, she knew that she couldn't face him.

"I can't..." Kate whispered, getting to her feet swiftly.

Sawyer's eyes followed her. He looked neither disapointed nor surprised. He simply watched.

"I'm sorry," she added, tears burning in her eyes. Since when did she feel the need to cry at every obstacle that came her way?

She moved to turn away, to flee into the jungle, running faster than she had ever ran before. But his voice stopped her.

"Hey," he called after her. Stiffening, she forced herself to turn to him, despite the instincts that screamed for her to run. To get away, and quick. But she had to stay, even had to look to him, at what his next statement would be: "I know."

Meeting his eyes, Kate felt herself shudder underneath her frozen muscles. That look in his eyes wasn't one she saw often, the seriousness about him locking her into the moment. For a full moment she was frozen, locked into his gaze. She almost sat back down, finding the energy to fight herself for the first time in a long time, but she never did. At last she finally turned and ran. Even if she had stayed, it'd be what her mind would've told her to do. And even though for nine months she had done the exact opposite, it truly seemed to be all she knew to do.

----

_I'm coming out of a cage_

_And I've been doing just fine_

_Gotta gotta gotta be down_

_Because I want it all_

_It started out with a kiss_

_How did it end up like this_

_It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss_

Another night back. Sighing, Jack considered this for the dozenth time as he lay down in his the lower bunk, preparing for either another restless night or a night of empty dreams. His shut-off memory seemed to remain even in his sleep, leaving any potential for dreams in a blank glow. Pure whiteness.

He jumped as a door cracked open in the distance. Listening, alert, Jack lifted himself up a little as his ears followed someone's footsteps as they entered the hatch. Soft and careful, Jack could make a good guess as to who the footsteps belonged to, but to ease his conscience, he stood, stepping carefully into the room connecting to the one he was in. Surely enough, it was Kate standing in the room's entrance, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Hey," Jack said uncertainly, in confusion at her taken aback presence.

She didn't respond.

"I just came to say goodnight," Kate explained, seeming to stumble over her words nervously.

Jack's eyebrow raised slightly, though his cheeks flushed a little, flattered.

"That's...thoughtful," he offered, attempting to sound honest. It really was thoughtful, but there just seemed to be something about Kate's presence that suggested differently. Her nervous, yet vacant, expression. Her quick explaination. It didn't seem to add up to her excuse. Not to mention that she wasn't leaving. "Was there something you wanted?"

_Now I'm falling asleep_

_And she's calling a cab_

_While he's having a smoke_

_And she's taking a drag_

_Now they're going to bed_

_And my stomach is sick_

_And it's all in my head_

_But she's touching his chest_

_Now, he takes off her dress_

_Now, let me go_

Kate looked to the floor. It was one of those moments where she just seemed small in exsistance. Somehow, it seemed like in these moments she was demanding something from him without really asking. A request for silence. Or maybe even help. Encouragment. But no matter what it was, the silence would always seem to drag on. Even if Jack could figure out her riddle, she seemed to be stepping away from him as much as she was inching towards him, despite that she would never really move from one certain spot. She seemed to know how to demand her moment, and Jack had learned to give it to her.

"I told Sawyer I loved him."

Hardly spoken above a whisper, Jack was certain he heard her wrong. He frowned, his eyebrows furrowed, and his blood even boiled with anger within him. But he didn't respond. He'd never even considered the love part until now. It'd seemed to be easier not to think of it that way, though he was sure that- with just his luck- Sawyer and Kate were, indeed, in love. But now... he just didn't know what to say. Was it over? Or did she regret what she was admitting? She looked like she could've regretted it, the way she'd sometimes roll back on her heels as she stood, as though she knew she was caught. But she didn't go back on her word.

"I'm sorry," she went on quietly. It sounded, or at least to him then, more like something added on last minute than a true apology. She really could've been apologetic, but the statement sounded like something that was meant more for him that from her. Sympathy.

"Don't be," Jack replied coldly. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes helplessly, pleading for something, but Jack couldn't read for what. Understanding was his best guess. Maybe he was just suppose to accept that this was how it was.

"I know it's not fair," Kate admitted, again sympathetically. He didn't respond. No, it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to any of them.

"I don't want you to hurt him," Jack confessed honestly. That much was true as well.

"Then what do you want me to do?" Kate requested quietly, eyeing him for response.

She may have meant for the question to be rhetorical, but Jack answered anyway:

"I don't know," he sighed. Her eyes diverted to the floor.

_I just can't look it's killing me_

_And taking control_

In silence they stood, waiting for the next to speak. Both were unsure of what they wanted to say, both were unsure of what they wanted to hear. They weren't given enough time to sort out their feelings for each other, and now they were being asked to do just that in moments of time. One of them had to end it, yet neither knew how to. So Kate took the easy way out for the both of them.

_Jealousy, turning saints into the sea_

_Swimming through sick lullabies_

_Choking on your alibi_

_But it's just the price I pay_

_Destiny is calling me_

_Open up my eager eyes_

"Goodnight, Jack," she whispered quietly, turning silently and leaving the room, the spot where she once was vacant so quickly that it was almost like she was never there to begin with. But she had been. And Jack knew that Kate wouldn't just say something like what she said...she wouldn't just hurt him like that unless she had a truthful reason to. She wouldn't mean to hurt him directly; that wasn't who she was, how he thought she was. But she did. No matter how much he tried to understand, he just couldn't accept it. Crying out in frustration, Jack punched the air. Why the hell could nothing turn out good for him? His relationship with Kate looked to be the only promising aspect of the island, the only reason he didn't totally regret getting on that plane. Now that relationship may as well be laying dead with the rest of the fuselage. He'd have to fight like hell to fix things, and he knew would put up that fight, even when things seemed so helpless now. But what if there was no real reason to put up the fight? What if Kate really meant it? She loved Sawyer.

Someone else's presence caught his attention. Jerking around, Jack stopped at the sight of Sayid standing there, stunned but silent at what he must've just witnessed.

"How much of that did you see?" Jack wondered, stomach knotting at the thought of the answer. He didn't want this to be something that everyone else knew about and would discuss everyday. For one, turning this into something that was so pressuring for Kate wouldn't be good for either him or Sawyer. Or Kate. And even though she'd hurt him, he still did want to hurt her back. However angry he may be. After all, who knew...

_I'm Mr. Brightside_

Sayid didn't need to give him an answer. Sighing, Jack turned away, the frustration still with him every step. Placing his hands on the sides of the couch, Jack meant for it to be a momentary relief of anxiety, but instead it had another use.

_(I never...)_

One after one images suddenly hit him, weighing down more on him each time. In quick, unrecognizable flashes, Jack watched, eyes closed in slight pain at the sudden impact in his mind, and listened as the visions came to him in both words and flashes of light:

_(I never...)_

_"This won't hurt."_

_"Just concentrate."_

More flashes. Jack clamped his eyes down

tightly to try and see through the light, move past the pain that was suddenly shooting through his body. He thought he heard someone call his name, but he couldn't tell if it was from Sayid or in his head. He couldn't even begin to fight to answer.

_(I never...)_

_"Just concertrate on what I asked you to do."_

There was a sudden cry from somewhere far away, and altogether, the flashes were gone. But by now, Jack realized what they must've meant.

(I never...)

"Jack?" Sayid inquired carefully.

Looking up, Jack felt his breath catch in his throat, body completely stop as he realized the truth to his theory:

"I think I just remembered something."

----

**Author's Notes: **Thanks so much for the reviews! You guys rock!

Until next time...

October Sky


	7. Surfacing

Life Interrupted

Chapter Seven

**Disclaimer:** "In A Broken Dream" is a song by Python Lee Jackson, featuring Rod Stewart. "You and Me" is a song by Lifehouse. The chapter title "Surfacing" was inspired by the Sarah Mclachlan album title _Surfacing_, though that doesn't necessarily mean that the album is a clue to the chapter.

**Chapter Seven: **Surfacing

"Go over it again," Sayid instructed, looking just as interested and concerned as when Jack first began telling him what happened.

Jack himself sighed, frustrated. He hated going over the memory again and again, knowing that he was getting no where.

"I told you," Jack began, running a hand over his head, trying to calm himself down, "there were just voices...one told me that something wouldn't hurt, then he wanted me to concentrate on something."

"So it was a man?" Sayid concluded.

Jack sighed again.

"Yes-" he cut himself short. How much could he trust his own mind, having no idea what mental state he had been in for the past nine months? "I guess...I don't know." He turned around, beginning to pace the floor for the umpteenth time that night.

"You don't know?" Sayid repeated, sounding angry even though Jack was now thinking the comment wasn't so significant. Maybe it was a man...the voice had sounded like a man. The more and more he thought about the memory, the more unfamiliar it seemed, but something told Jack that was far from the truth- whoever that man was, whatever the situation was, it should be familiar to him...very familiar.

"It was a man talking," Jack said, unafraid to show his frustration and bitterness with each word, "and white walls...some kind of brightness."

Both Sayid and Locke stood in front of him, each with their arms crossed and faces contorted in concentration as they went over in their minds what Jack was saying. Jack himself was growing restless. He didn't want to think about it...he wanted to know. For a moment's time, he'd thought there was hope that his memory had come back, but all that was there was that one scene, playing in his head in a loop for nearly an hour. Maybe if he didn't think about it, Jack decided, the memory would come back to him more easily...but once he tried to take his mind off of remembering, the only thing would come to him was his encounter with Kate, whom only an hour ago told him that she loved Sawyer. Just like that, it seemed. One minute the two were trying to catch fish with their hands, the next they were practically ready to exchange vows. One minute she and Jack seemed to be slowly recovering from their tension concerning the kiss as they laughed off the incident with being trapped in the net, the next Michael came back, and when that should've been a good thing, things just went downhill from there.

"Any ideas on how you lost your memory in the first place?" Locke asked curiously, bringing Jack back to the present and reminding him of the ordeal at hand.

Jack found himself considering the question despite his hopes of moving away from the topic, it being something that he had, indeed, been thinking about.

"It could've been from a head injury," Jack suggested. He slowed down before his next theory. It wasn't something he liked to think about, even though it was very plausible. "Or something happened that was so traumatic that my mind didn't want to deal with it or it couldn't...it just pushed it away."

Silence took over as the theory sank in. Just the idea of there being another group of people on this island, one far more fierce and seemingly powerful than themselves, had been enough to deal with. But being held captive by them? God only knew what he could have gone through.

Suddenly they realized that they weren't in silence any more. From nearby, music was gradually growing louder, and as Jack decided to investigate, thankful for an excuse to break the tension of the room, he was able to hear the lyrics as he stepped closer. The music sounded like it should've been some type of hard rock, but yet it had a seventies feeling to it as well. Stepping into the room the music was coming from, Jack could see that it was Charlie playing the music- and singing along. He stopped at the door, but felt the need to interrupt Charlie before he reached the chorus. Immediately Charlie stopped singing.

"Oh...sorry," he said in slight embarrassment, turning the music down. "You ever heard of them?" Charlie asked Jack, turning the album over to reveal the artist: Geronimo Jackson. No, he had never heard of them, but Jack remained quiet. "I think I've become a fan-" he shrugged as he sat the album down carefully beside him, "they're not that bad."

Jack ignored him.

"That music wasn't loud a minute ago," Jack pointed out.

Charlie stopped, caught. Jack didn't have to note what Charlie had been up to.

"Sorry," he said, though he hardly sounded apologetic, "when you're not invited to the party..." he trailed off.

He didn't mean to get so angry, but since he returned, Jack had been protective of every new revealation that came along. He didn't want every new thing he learned to become the talk of the island for the next week. He didn't want the looks or hear the whispers- he was already getting enough of that without revealing the secrets.

"That was a private conversation," Jack argued.

Charlie looked surprised at his anger.

"Sorry, Mate," Charlie offered, easing back into the chair he was in and picking back up the Geronimo Jackson album, "it should've been in a more private place."

Jack hesitated. Even though he was angry at Charlie for evesdropping, he didn't want to make an enemy. Something told him that he had a whole tribe of enemies on the other side of the island...he probably couldn't afford anymore.

"You know," Charlie began as he turned the music back up, never taking his eyes off the album, "if you wanted help with this whole memory thing, you could always ask Claire. Of anyone, she'd be the one that could relate to you."

He studied Charlie for a long moment, realizing that he was right.

----

The next morning, Jack headed to the beach, knowing that Claire wasn't the one to linger in the jungle or even in the hatch. Then again, for the past nine months, he hadn't even known Claire. Nevertheless, he kept moving forward, approaching where Claire was sitting on the beach, a ten month old Aaron playing in the sand in front of her. She was smiling, laughing as her son tried to balance himself enough to walk. Jack couldn't help but to smile himself, and somehow the sight of the boy gave him confidence. If Claire could overcome what she had been through, he thought, while being pregnant and having a baby to care for, then he should be able to again. Two months and nine months were certainly two completely different time frames, but he wasn't going to deny that she had been through a trauma.

"Claire?" He asked carefully as he reached where she sat.

She turned around at his voice, jumping a little.

"Sorry," she said, just as Charlie had, "you scared me. I guess I thought-" she shook her head, laughing a little at herself.

"It's fine," Jack assured her, understanding what she meant: she wasn't used to him being back. None of them were. He could still see it in their eyes as they watched him pass. He could still hear it in their nervous tones as they forced conversations out of themselves whenever he approached them. He had been dead to them, and suddenly he was back. Really, who could blame them? "I was wondering if I could talk to you about something."

"Sure," Claire said, offering him a smile.

He knealt down to her level, but hesitated there, realizing that he didn't know where to start. Should he tell her everything: the scars and those screams he heard in his head the first few days back- and even still off and on? He lowered himself to the sand, trying to decide as he sat beside her.

"What I'm about to tell you..." Jack swallowed, still hesitant even as he was about to confess and reveal his secret, "can you promise me that you won't tell anyone?"

Claire stared at him, clearly deciding on what he meant.

"Even Kate?" She inquired, sounding uncertain.

He knew that she and Kate must be close friends by now, and, like in all friendships, Jack knew that Kate would be able to detect that something was bothering Claire. But he didn't want Kate to know. Yet. He didn't want to reveal this new step in his recovering process when he was still trying to decide what was left between the two of them, how much of their relationship could survive what Kate had confessed to him last night. The cause called for yet another sleepless night that kept Jack laying awake for hours, thinking of what Kate had said, while his only memory still lingered in the back of his mind. He was terryfied of losing it, and part of Jack had been afraid that were he to fall asleep, he'd lose it. Not that he had much of a choice anyway.

Jack nodded.

"Even Kate," he said with regret. Even if he had his reasons, he didn't like the idea of lying to Kate.

Claire studied him for a long moment before finally agreeing:

"Okay."

He could sense the regret in her voice too, and the guilt was worse when he thought of making Claire lie to her friend. But he needed her help, without Kate knowing. Yet.

"I..." still he hesitated, trying to figure out how he'd admit it to her. He decided to keep it simple. "I remembered something."

Claire looked at him, puzzled.

"That's great," Claire commented, "right?"

Jack kept his eyes on the ground. Yeah, it was great to know that he might not be left in the dark forever, but it would be even better if he knew what the memory meant.

"It's just these few lines," Jack quickly went on, "I can't figure out what they mean, and I was wondering if you could help me, like Libby helped you."

He hoped Claire knew that Kate had told him what had happened. Either she had, or Claire was doing a good job of not acting surprised. Instead, she looked uncertain.

"Libby was a trained psychologist," Claire pointed out, "I couldn't-"

"Please," Jack begged. He looked up at her for the first time, meeting her eyes with desperation. Surely she'd understand, he had thought. She knew what it was like to live with missing time, to not know what happened. To be desperate for answers.

Claire glanced over to Aaron, who was still attempting to walk on his own. The infant fell to his hands when Claire looked to him. She immediately reached out to him, but Aaron ignored her, simply once again trying to stand up. She watched her son as if all answers were held inside him, and in a way, they were. Everything Claire did, had done, since crashing on the island- and even before- was based on how it affected her child: where she lived, what she did, what she ate. So much consideration was being put into this one innocent child who knew nothing of the dangers or evils of the world, who had nothing to worry about except for managing to stand up and walk on his own two feet.

"Okay," Claire agreed at last, "how can I help?"

----

"You can stop shaking," Claire informed him.

He opened his eyes, meeting her sympathetic smile. Looking down, he saw that his hands were clining to his knees, knuckles white in desperation to hold on. He was trembling violently, and even after Jack forced himself to try and calm down, he still shook a little.

"I know it's hard," Claire offered, "but trust me, it helps. Just relax."

He eyed her, unsure, but Claire nodded, signaling that he could trust her: she was right. Sighing, Jack once again shut his eyes tightly, trying to concentrate on remaining calm.

"Your someone with a lot of anxiety, aren't you?" Claire gussed carefully, studying Jack: the sweat pouring down his face, his trembling hands, and the clear fear and anticipation he had at figuring out this memory.

Quickly, Jack nodded, admitting that she was right. Forcing himself to remain calm wasn't something he wasn't familiar with. When you are in a room full of other surgeons, waiting for your call, waiting for you to make the first cut, the pressure very easily built up, but you had to deal with it. The same thing went with nearly everything he had been through on the island.

"Just picture darkness," Claire suggested.

He squeezed his eyes shut even more tightly, letting the blue and green dots swim aside as he tried to let darkness come into view. But it never did.

"I can't," Jack realized, frustrated.

"Why not?" Claire asked. But she wasn't being forceful or even frustrated herself: she spoke as though she expected this to happen. And then Jack realized...

"It's part of the memory."

He couldn't help but to smile, and Claire did too.

"Good," she urged, "what else do you remember?"

The triumph found confidence within him, and suddenly Jack found it easier to concentrate on the memory. _You know this,_ he told himself, _you've been over it hundreds of times. _He was hearing the voices now, and he was just beginning to piece them together when Claire interrupted him.

"You know," she said, "what helped me was Libby telling me to remember back when I was pregnant. It woke up something in side of me-" Claire shook her head, still not able to understand what had happened, "what do you remember before that? The brightness?"

He was going to argue that he had been making progress, but if this had helped Claire...Jack thought back to the time he knew. Here he was able to see things more clearly, in scenes of film instead of quick snapshots.

"I'm on the dock," he remembered, putting as the fact that Claire may not know what he meant. He could picture the island in front of him that he was facing as the bag was ripped off his head and the Others that were blocking him from full site of it. He could smell strong whiff of saltwater that suffocated him even though he was now free of the claustraphobic restrictions of the bag. The gag in his mouth still tasted like blood, even though when he tried to look down, he saw none.

"Good," Claire said, "what do you remember after that?"

In his mind, Jack switched to the end of the scene, right before the bags were put over his heads once more. He had looked at Kate...that he remembered clearly...that one last look.

"I blacked out," Jack said, half-lying. The look wasn't vital to the confession, he thought, though after considering it he should have figured that Claire may have heard word of it. If she did, she didn't mention it.

"And now?" Claire went on.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut so tightly it hurt, but it seemed like he had to in order to get back to that one memory. Like last time, after the dots passed, the brightness came.

"Everything's white," he recited. His face contorted as he concentrated on the memory. "There are voices..."

"What are they saying?" Claire inquired, encouraging him to go on.

He was surprised at how difficult this was. With every question about the new memory, Jack had to concentrate on it harder than ever before, when it had come to him again and again last night, like a song that was stuck in his head. The voices, Jack reminded himself, think about the voices. Oh yes, the voices. Talking to him. Encouraging him...telling him to...telling him to...concentrate. That was it!

"They're telling me to concentrate," Jack recalled. _And warning... _"And warning me. They were also warning me."

"Warning you of what?" This time, he noticed, Claire sounded more interested than encouraging, but he attempted to ignore this as he continued to focus on the memory.

He could hear it in his head now as the memory slowly came back to him, like a silhouette emerging through a thick patch of fog. After a whole lot of nothing this one thing seemed to be the most significant thing he had ever known.

"That it won't hurt," Jack said, quickly continuing: "but it will." He didn't know where that came from, but Jack went on, hardly aware of what he was saying. "I don't know why he's saying that...I don't want to do this."

"He?" Claire repeated.

"He..."

"Jack," she said carefully, studying him, "where are you?"

In his mind, Jack looked around. Still there was only brightness- a shining white wherever he turned- but still it felt as though something were close. Something was so close, he should be able to touch it, feel it...remember it.

"I don't know," he admited.

He turned in his memory, but still, nothing...

"How do you feel, in the memory?"

"Terrified..." as he spoke the word he shuddered, as though just saying it were horrifying enough. "I don't know why they want to do this. I don't know what they want..."

"You just said he."

"He...they..."

If he didn't know where he was, where was this information coming from? It seemed to be spilling out of him in a neverending wave of knowledge, surprising himself even as he spoke. And yet, in a way, he wasn't surprised: he _knew_ this stuff. He'd been through it before. It was a memory.

"Where are you in the memory?" Claire's voice asked through the brightness. "Are you sitting, standing..."

Jack thought about it. He tried to make his head stop spinning long enough for him to actually feel something. Slowly he could feel something hard holding him up beneath him- it wasn't literally, but somehow, he knew it was there, underneath him...

"Laying," he realized, "I'm laying down on something."

Claire smiled, relieved herself at the progress he was making.

"Wait."

Suddenly whatever he was laying on wasn't there anymore. Now that he thought about it, maybe it wasn't there to begin with. But how was that possible? He remembered it...Nevertheless, it still felt like there was something that was keeping him from being on the ground, from standing.

"Maybe I'm sitting," Jack said, changing his mind.

Claire paused before going on, hesitant about asking her next question, though it may seem to be the obvious one to ask. But she knew she shouldn't keep Jack waiting any longer. The questions seemed to be helping him...

"Are you being restrained?" She asked carefully.

On cue, Jack started shaking again, just as violently as the first time. He could really feel it now...he was there, inside the memory. It was happening all over again, whatever it was...

"It's okay, Jack," Claire assured him, but he hardly heard her, her voice echoing inside the memory.

_This won't hurt..._

_Concentrate on what we want you to do..._

"Jack!" Claire called to him, sounding frantic but disant.

_...on what we want you to do._

What did they want him to do? What the hell did they want with him?

"Jack!"

His eyes snapped open and his memory jerked away as he felt himself being shaken, but this time by somone else who was pushing him. Claire's hands were on his shoulders, shaking him back into reality. How had he been so close and had it taken away? Why had he let himself panic?

"Maybe we should take a break," Claire suggested, eyeing him, clearly worried.

His once racing heart slowed, bringing him back down to earth. But he didn't want to be here. That memory...he almost had it. He could feel it, right until he panicked. If only he could have a second chance...

Jack's eyes left Claire, traveling up the beach. His heart stopped when his eyes fell on Kate and Sawyer, sitting in the sand just close enough so he could make out who they were. Momentarily his mind left trying to concentrate on the memory, and instead focused into the couple chatting in the sand. Smiling. Happy. Looking back on what, to him, were the past three weeks of being on the island, Jack could only count on one hand(save a finger or two) the amount of times he had been truly happy. He watched as Kate, whose hands were interlaced with Sawyer, playfully pushed him back, until he pushed her away. Kate caught herself before hitting the sand, laughing. He couldn't remember ever feeling so sick to his stomach at something he was witness, couldn't remember ever feeling so...jealous. Reaching down, Sawyer helped Kate off the ground, and as he pulled her up Kate turned, meeting eyes with Jack. He felt his heart stopped again, and he didn't have time to react as she offered him a small smile before returning back to Sawyer.

"Jack?"

Once again, Claire pulled him back into reality. But he didn't feel like concentrating on the memory any longer. As much as he wanted to figure out what it meant, Jack knew that he couldn't sit there, knowing that Sawyer and Kate were so close by, laughing, in love.

"I need some air," Jack lied, getting to his feet.

"You're at the beach," Claire pointed out, puzzled as she laughed a little.

"I just need to get away," Jack said as he tried to walk away.

"We could go somewhere else," Claire suggested, calling after him.

"I just need to be alone!" Jack called back, nearly fleeing from the beach as he immediately headed back towards the hatch.

----

Listening to music suddenly didn't seem like such a bad idea. Charlie was gone by the time he reached the hatch again, and Jack was grateful to have the record player to himself. He selected an album without considering what it was, giving nothing more than a glance to the artist as he sat down in one of the seats beside the record player. A song soon filled the room, and as he attempted to relax, Jack closed his mind, concentrating on the lyrics and letting the song be the only thing he knew then:

_Everyday I spend my time_

_Drinking wine_

_Feeling fine_

_Waiting here to find a sign_

_That I can understand_

_Yes I am..._

"Does it have to be so loud?"

He jerked up at Desmond's voice.

"Were you asleep?" Jack asked him.

"Not anymore," Desmond sighed, taking a seat in the chair opposite of Jack.

"Sorry," Jack offered apologetically; but Desmond didn't offer any other insults about the music as he sat there, looking half-awake as he listened to the song.

"Do you know this song?" Desmond asked curiously.

The answer came out of Jack before he could think about what he was saying:

"I just never thought you liked this kind of music."

Jack and Desmond looked up at the same time, both equally confussed.

"What?" Desmond finally asked.

Sighing, Jack eased back into the seat. Desmond took the liberty to speak exactly what he was thinking.

"If you ask me," Desmond began, "you're going crazy, Brotha."

Jack didn't answer. Instead he closed his eyes, thinking about what he had just said...'_I just never thought you liked this kind of music'. _Why did that sound so familiar? He probably said it dozens of times in his life, but that very conversation hit him in a violent wave of dejavu, like something he had said very recently. But he couldn't remember saying it recently. Even what Desmond said: '_Do you know this song?', _it just sounded so familiar...but he couldn't even imagine where he'd heard it.

Out of frustration, Jack slammed the palm of his hand against the wall beside him. This was going nowhere. Maybe he wasn't making as much progress as he thought.

"Dammit!" Desmond cursed, suddenly leaping up from his seat.

His eyes snapped open to find Desmond fighting to grab ahold of the record player before it went crashing down to the floor. He didn't think that he hit the wall _that _hard...

"Sorry," was all Jack could think to say.

"Thanks," Desmond replied sarcastically, "now we'll have to fix it again."

Helping Desmond lift the record player back onto its stand, Jack noticed that the stylus was loose. He remembered what Locke told him about the hatch explosion and what the computer room looked like now. It was a wonder, he realized, that the record player even worked now.

"How did you fix it the first time?" Jack wondered out loud.

"Sayid," Desmond answered simply.

Jack didn't press his curiosity further, but he did hope that the record player would work again soon...that song, the conversation...it all seemed so familiar. But where had he heard it?

"You know, the last time I saw you," Desmond recalled, breaking into Jack's thoughts, "I was remembering when I first met you. You were in over your head in some situation about a girl."

"I wasn't in over my head," Jack protested.

Desmond glanced at him, looking amused.

"You were in over your head," he said, as though that confirmed it, "and now, let me guess. Is it another girl?"

Jack didn't answer him. How was it that people seemed to be able to read him so easily sometimes? And here he thought he was good at hiding.

"You know," Desmond said again, going on, "the girl, the one you like- Kate. Her relationship with that guy isn't what it seems." Suddenly the music came back on, and Desmond smiled. "You've got to stop giving up so easily, Brotha." With that Desmond stood, leaving Jack with a simple: "Have a nice day."

Once again Jack was alone. The same song was playing again, but he hardly noticed. He'd like to think that Desmond was right, that Kate and Sawyer's relationship wasn't what it seemed. But how could it not be? She loved Sawyer, she had said so herself. And why would she lie? And he didn't think that he was giving up easily...

But if Kate saw it that way...

----

She saw him coming as soon as he reached the sand. Standing up, she told Sawyer to hold on as she went to Jack, Sawyer's scolding glare following her as she went.

"What do you want?" She asked simply. Not demanding, not offensively. It was obvious that Jack was, for whatever reason, effected by the lie she told him last night, and she wouldn't of been surprised if he had decided to keep his distance for awhile; but it scared her to think that Jack felt so betrayed and confused by her relationship with Sawyer...the safe and slow pace of her and Jack's relationship before the captivity allowed boundaries to prevent any truly deep feelings from lashing out. Neither of them saw what was happening with their emotions now coming.

_What day is it?_

_And in what month?_

_This clock never seemed so alive _

Jack glanced behind her at Sawyer, who had given up on listening in and instead was staring at the ground, looking nothing less than abandoned. Kate bit her lip.

"Can I talk to you?" Jack requested. She nodded. If he had come from the hatch to talk to her, approaching her while she was talking with someone else, then Kate assumed that it was important. "What about him?" Jack added, nodding towards Sawyer.

Kate took another look back at Sawyer, already feeling guilty for something as simple as a conversation. She looked to the ground.

_I can't keep up _

_And I can't back down _

_I've been losing so much time _

"He'll be fine," she said quietly, and followed Jack into a more private place for conversation in the jungle.

They had been walking for a while in silence before Jack finally opened his mouth to speak, obviously ready to confess something. Kate listened both attentively and nervously, waiting to hear what he had to say. If he didn't decide to hide, and instead wanted to talk, she could see the reason behind it, but that didn't mean that Kate was as ready as he was to discuss the matter. She could hardly explain it to herself. The world was just so confusing...Who did she have to hurt? Who did she want to hurt? Neither, she knew. She didn't want to hurt neither of them...which is why this was so hard.

_'Cause it's you and me _

_And all of the people_

_With nothing to do_

_Nothing to lose_

"There's something I haven't been telling you," Jack began carefully.

She kept her eyes to the ground. She would have never seen it in Jack before to be the one to suddenly confess feelings, but now he was having to play catch up- maybe he thought he had no choice. Maybe he didn't. Maybe she needed to hear it from him, what he thought about her, just to be sure...just to know that, yeah, this was as torturous to her mind as it seemed. Just to know that she wasn't fuming over this for nothing.

"I don't know why I didn't tell you," Jack went on, frustrated with himself, "maybe it was because I wasn't ready, or I was mad at you..." he paused, and Kate held her breath, attempting to ignore his comment about being mad at her as she prepared herself. "I've been remembering things."

_And it's you and me_

_And all of the people_

_And I don't know why _

_I can't keep my eyes off of you_

Kate stopped. Her heart stopped. Her head, her mind... She hardly noticed when Jack stopped as well, though she was looking right at him, finding herself both hurt and puzzled by what he said. So it wasn't about herself at all...which should make her relieved...but she wasn't. She felt hurt, confused, and even betrayed. She hadn't even thought that she really wanted an answer from him, on an emotional level...it had all been to ease her conscious. But now, she wasn't sure. And she wasn't sure why either.

Not to mention there was the fact that he had been lying to her to take into account.

"You've been lying to me?" Kate inquired, speaking her thoughts. Jack looked at her, guilt swarming in his eyes. They stared at her, apologizing, surrendering, and at that moment, Kate realized and accepted that this wasn't about her right now. If Jack was actually remembering things, then that was a huge deal. In fact, it was almost insulting to him- and embarrasing for her- to be worried right now about something as silly as Jack not admitting any feelings about her.

_All of the things _

_That I want to say_

_Just aren't coming out right_

"It's nothing major," Jack quickly explained, "just a few lines...voices."

He looked down, appearing sick at the thought. Obviously it was more than he was making it out to be.

"Voices?" Kate repeated, worry slipping through. She couldn't help it. She wasn't a doctor, she didn't know if this was normal or healthy. Should he have been remembering things already? Or was it normal for memory to slowly come back? Jack didn't answer her. Kate began to grow frustrated herself: she'd promised herself a long time ago that she would help Jack through this. Back when he was still missing, she told herself that she could save him, rescue him, bring him home...she'd help him cope with whatever he had been through, try and help him get better. Even though revealing that she was now in a relationship with Sawyer seemed to hurt him just as much as anything else, she still felt the need to help him overcome the trauma he had gone through, and now he was lying to her, preventing her from doing that. "Why didn't you tell me?"

_I'm tripping on words_

_You get my head spinning _

_I don't know where to go from here_

Jack looked up to her, that same desperate, apologetic look as before. He looked like he was wanting to tell her something, but his mind wouldn't let him. In this battle with himself, Jack struggled to explain; but the explanation didn't come out in the way she was hoping.

"Did you mean what you said last night?" Jack inquired, in a more demanding way than she would have liked.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Kate shot back, partially angry with him for bringing the situation back up. She had just eased into the thought of the subject being let aside, and now Jack was forcing it back on her again.

"Did you?" Jack said again, his eyes searching hers, trapping her in his gaze.

This was her chance, she realized then, as she was forced to meet his eyes. Theoretically, right here, right now, she could say what she wanted to. How she felt. It was just the two of them...she could do this. Even her subconscious began to aprove the idea, as everything she had been holding in began to surface. She fought to control her emotions, and when she finally managed to find her voice, her words came soft and fearful:

"I don't want to hurt him."

_'Cause it's you and me_

_And all of the people_

_With nothing to do_

_And nothing to prove_

His reaction came at once. A sigh of relief escaped him- _relief_. Obvious relief washed over Jack's face, easing the tense fist of rage his hands had formed. He even looked better: less nervous and more comfortable.

_And it's you and me_

_And all of the people_

_And I don't know why_

_I can't keep my eyes off of you_

"I don't want you to hurt him either," Jack admitted, the relief even showing in his voice a little at the confession. She felt sick...it was like he had won- she hadn't even announced the winner yet.

"Then what do you want me to do?" Kate challegened quietly, looking up to meet his eyes. Together they pondered the question, their number one obstacle. She didn't want to hurt either of them...but if she chose one of the two, that was certain to happen.

_There's something about you now_

_I can't quite figure out_

_Everything she does is beautiful_

_And everything she does is right_

"How do you feel about me, Kate?" Jack asked, this time not as foreceful. But even so, the question sounded like an inquiry, spoken to her from a test. Like it was spoken more for her benefit than his. Kate looked down to the ground, the pressure of his searching eyes too much for her to handle. Did he secretly have his own theories, maybe theories he was hoping for her to see the truth in? Wanting her to believe they were right, even though it was _her_ emotions they were talking about.

His intense gaze urged her emotions to come out. Encouraged the truth. And here she was, trying to decide just what that was. She couldn't imagine hurting Sawyer like that, knowing how much their relationship meant to him, even if he didn't admit it. Kate knew what it was like to be hurt, and she didn't wish that on anyone. And it wasn't like her feelings for him were completely gone...it was just now Jack was back, and old feelings were rousing too quickly for her to control. No matter how much she tried to ignore them, no matter how much she lied, Kate knew that those feelings- whatever they meant- would never leave. She couldn't play this game forever...she couldn't run forever on an island where there was no where to go. How did she feel? What did she want? She didn't know...and she didn't know how to figure that out.

"I don't know what to do," Kate admitted quietly. She looked back up at him, asking her previous question again, though now more calmly. Honestly. She honestly wanted to know. "What should I do?"

_'Cause it's you and me_

_And all of the people_

_With nothing to do_

_And nothing to lose_

She should have known that Jack would have actually answered. It's what she had wanted...but every question she asked seemed to receive an answer she wasn't expecting. An answer she wasn't sure she wanted. Because she wasn't sure of anything she wanted. And as Jack kissed her now, again, Kate felt more confussed than ever; because this time, she was locked in. Completing the kiss, Kate kissed him back, as though this simple action was a way of exploring her options. The theory sounded sick to her, but when she deepened the kiss, satisfying Jack's answer as, this time, she didn't pull away, Kate wasn't sure what other explanation there could be.

_And it's you and me_

_And all of the people_

_And I don't know why_

_I can't keep my eyes off of_

_Did_ she have feelings for him? As the jungle spun around them, reminding Kate that they were alone(how could she have forgotten?), and that it was the only two of them and their kiss...as Kate found herself realizing the familiarity of his taste, remembering it, even, and as she realized that nothing was stopping them, nothing was telling them that no, this shouldn't be, Kate realized...

Abruptly, she stepped back. Dejavu swept over her, and Kate stared at Jack, feeling more fearful than ever. What the hell did she just do? This time she couldn't even blame it on him...she hadn't exactly turned away. Still catching his breath, Jack tried to say something, but for the moment he looked almost entranced, still caught in the moment. In the kiss. And it scared her. What did _he_ think the kiss meant? The fact that she helped it forward, didn't back down? Until now...

_You and me_

_And all of the people_

_With nothing to do_

_And nothing to prove_

If she ran, what would that mean? Would he be even more angry at her? _Of course he would,_ Kate answered herself, _how many times am I going to run from him? _When was she going to decide that she no longer wanted to run? When wouldn't it matter who she hurt and didn't hurt? When would it be okay to just follow her heart?

Or maybe he would simply solve the problem for her:

"For the record," Jack announced, sidestepping her, breaking the silence, "I was the one who ran."

_And it's you and me_

_And all of the people_

_And I don't know why_

_I can't keep my eyes off of you_

But as he walked away, Kate found herself- at least most of herself- wishing he hadn't. She wanted to know his opinion. Exactly how did he feel about her? Why was he so desperate for her answers? It didn't take a rocket scientist to know that it was more than just needing to know the truth...Jack cared about her, that much was for sure, but the question was, how much? Watching him walk away, Kate found her mind just going in a circle at the question, still needing to know herself- admit to herself- why _she_ cared so much.

----

Jack felt like he was coming home from battle as he finally reached the door of the hatch. Exhaustion swept through him as his emotions sat confused. He had thought she'd confess...change her mind. But, then again, how selfish was that? Kate had been in a relationship with Sawyer for the past nine months, how had he expected her to change her mind with just one kiss? Her confusion had given him false hope, and it both frustrated and hurt Jack to consider that Kate was the one who really wanted to run.

Stepping into the shelter, Jack wondered how he'd be able to go about the day. Maybe he'd just stay in here. Hide. Of course, God knew that would never do either of them any good...

What were they supposed to do now? What did this mean for them? Where were they supposed to go now? Was all of this a good thing or a bad thing? Who knew, maybe Jack should have stayed...

At last he reached the main room of the hatch, but if he was planning on sleeping on the couch, he'd have to think of a new plan. On the couch sat a woman. A bruise on her face that clashed badly with her blonde hair and pale skin. Her clothes were faded, shoes covered in mud and sand. She had been shaking even before he had spotted her, and was now trembling violently at his gaze. As he studied her, he decided that she looked unfamiliar. In fact, Jack was certain that he had never seen this woman before in his life, let alone on the island. But just before he was able to speak up, the woman beat him to it.

"Jack?"

_What day is it?_

_And in what month?_

He found himself unable to reply to her frightened and cautious tone, and was taken aback as she stood. Subconsciously attempted to take a step back, but she caught him, pulling Jack into a tight hug before he could react. All he could do was uncertainly offer her a pat on the back as she held on to him.

If she was an Other, she didn't act like it. Overwhelmed with relief, the woman sobbed into his shoulder as he let her stay there, not only too shocked to react, but he knew how this would end up. Over the next few days, Jack could imagine that the events would be so overwhelming and so unpredictable that there would hardly be room for time for comfort.

_This clock never seemed so alive_

_----_

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews! Keep in mind that certain characters aren't like they are in the show...but I'll get into that a little bit in the author's notes of the next chapter, and let you ponder just who this woman may be first.

Thanks again!

Until next time...

October Sky


	8. A Few Questions

Life Interrupted

Chapter Eight

_"We'll find each other..._

_we always find each other."_

-_Alias_, "The Horizon"

**Chapter Eight: **Questions

Jack kept himself together as he handed the woman a glass of water. She was seated again on the couch, looking reserve as she kept her eyes to the floor, quietly thinking him as he handed her the water. Her acting skills were just as good or better than Henry's. Like Henry, she looked terrified, but there was something very different about this woman: she also looked relieved. It explained the hug; the clear gratefulness she had upon seeing Jack. Carefully he picked out what he should say and do- he wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

"Does your arm hurt?" He asked her, noticing a pattern of thick cuts, like she had fallen- or been pushed- to the ground and rolled.

The woman shook her head, holding the glass of water closely to herself.

"I'm a doctor-"

"I know."

Smiling sadly, she looked up to Jack.

"You told me," she explained, reminding him.

He didn't say anything. Jack knew he hadn't mentioned it before- he'd hardly said anything to her. Of course, he reminded himself, she could easily be lying.

"What's your name?" He asked her.

The woman's face contorted into something of confusion and amusement.

"Juliet," she replied, "you know that, Jack."

He shuddered as she said his name. That night at the line came back to him suddenly, when Tom stepped out. He knew each and every one of them. Even when they made the list, all of their names had been there- first names, last names. Even Sawyer's real name(what he had assumed to be Sawyer's real name, thinking maybe 'Sawyer' was a middle name) had been on there. Knowing names was a very Other-like quality, but then again, if this woman- Juliet- was trying to fool him, why give herself away that easily?

"Actually," he said carefully, "no I don't."

At that moment, a door opened and slammed shut nearby. Sayid and Locke rushed into the room. Jack looked at them, wondering how they could have possibly known the woman was there; and as he met Sayid's eyes, suddenly Jack knew this wasn't going to go as smoothly as he'd hoped.

"Someone's hurt at the beach," Locke recited, gazing at Juliet in disbelief. Suddenly he looked up to Jack. "Care to introduce us?"

Jack turned to Juliet, fighting with how he'd explain this. Dejavu was hitting him, and Jack had been put in this situation one too many times for his liking.

"You're Sayid," Juliet spoke up, standing as she did. Jack held out a hand to stop her, but Juliet pushed it away, stepping towards the two men.

"How does she know that?" Sayid demanded to Jack.

"I don't-"

"You told me," Juliet interrupted, glancing towards Jack and then back to Sayid and Locke. "You told me everything about them."

Swallowing, Jack fought to defend himself.

"I swear I didn't," Jack protested, shaking his head in disbelief. What the hell was going on?

"Yes you did," Juliet argued. She nodded towards Locke. "And you're John."

Locke seemed to handle this better than Sayid.

"How'd you know?" He asked curiously.

Juliet grinned.

"The bald head."

Locke snorted, and Jack blushed in embarrassment, turning away.

"Is that so?" Locke retorted, smiling as he exchanged glances with Jack.

"I didn't tell her that," Jack defended once more.

Juliet swirled around, facing him angrily. Her eyes searched his: furious, hurt.

"Why do you keep saying that?" She demanded.

But Sayid hardly gave her a chance to speak.

"Who are you?" He inquired, more aggressive this time.

Silence fell. The two men's original purpose for being there was momentarily forgot as Juliet glanced towards the three men, looking puzzled and hurt. Jack tried to sympathize with her, but his own confusion and curiosity overruled. If this woman was who she said she was- if she did know him- then how well was he supposed to know her?

Juliet didn't answer Sayid. Instead she looked to Jack, desperate for help. And then Jack realized: the only way this woman was going to talk was through him.

"The woman at the beach-" Locke said suddenly, snapping everyone out of their thoughts.

Jack hesitated, though he knew he'd have to help. He was, after all, still the doctor. Some things never change.

"I'll go," Jack said, and turned to Juliet, "and then we'll talk."

She nodded frantically, tears swelling in her eyes as he ran out.

----

As it turned out, the woman at the beach had burnt her hand on a campfire that had almost gotten out of control. Jack was able to help her, but as everyone watched as he diagnosed the injury, healing it to the best of his ability, he couldn't help but to wonder how it was they survived without him. Surely there had been plenty of major injuries during those nine months. Sayid and Locke, he knew, would have been perfectly capable of healing twisted ankles or cuts, but what about the even worser injuries? How many suffered because he wasn't there to help? The call for help made him feel even more overwhelmed than before as he headed back to the hatch, knowing of the difficulties that would lie ahead. It was the same obstacle every time: how do we know this person isn't lying? But how do we know they are?

When Jack stepped into the main room of the hatch, however, he found it empty. Juliet was gone and so were Sayid and Locke. Fearing the worse, Jack headed to the armory out of instinct- it had become the best known place to him in the whole facility. A scream welcomed him, assuring his instincts. There must not have been time to change the lock, as Jack was able to easily throw open the door to find exactly who he was looking for. Locke was watching as Sayid finished bounding Juliet's wrist, the woman frantically attempting to kick him away as he did. Sayid simply ignored her.

"Jack!" Juliet gasped, panicked.

"We're not making the same mistake again," Sayid declared, stepping back when Juliet's hands were safely bound. A gun was sticking out of his back pocket.

"I know," Jack agreed, struggling to comprehend all that was going on. What he needed was silence. He needed to think this through, how he wanted to go about this. He knew others had a right to their opinion on the matter, but it was Jack whose name Juliet kept screaming for. It was Jack whom she addressed right from the start. It was Jack, he realized, for whom she came looking for. "Let me talk to her."

Sayid glanced towards him, uncertain. Crossing over towards him, Jack lowered his voice as he explained:

"She _knows_ me," he said, "or at least knows of me. If she's going to say anything, it's going to be to me. Let me talk to her." The two men met eyes, Jack desperate for Sayid to understand this.

At last Sayid sighed.

"Okay," he agreed, with obvious reluctance.

"I guess that includes me too," Locke spoke up.

Jack nodded. As both men exited, Sayid stopped, turning back to Jack once more.

"If you need anything," he began, "don't be afraid to go back on your word."

Their met eyes once more, Sayid passing to him the same understanding Jack had attempted to pass to him earlier. Once again, Jack nodded; and then he was alone again with Juliet, who had become their newest captive within moments. Jack shook his head, his mind still trying to catch up.

The door closed and he and the captive were alone. Jack took slow breaths, running a hand over his head, contemplating on what he was going to say, though it would actually be Juliet to speak first:

"Now you can untie me," Juliet said, relieved. It wasn't an order: it was spoken casually. Like they were friends playing a game.

Jack looked at her, hand rested on his forehead.

"Maybe it's a good precaution," he admitted, sounding hoarse.

Juliet's eyes began to water again, frightened.

"Please!" She begged. "You know me, Jack-"

"No I don't!"

The outburst came out of him before he could help it. He was tired of all these things and people he didn't know that he should have. Everything he missed out on, all the time that had gone on without his consent. The frustration was too much, and little did he know, his anger wasn't going to be able to conceal itself with this new piece of the puzzle.

"Stop talking to me like you know me!" Jack cried. Juliet looked horrified, trembling as he yelled at her.

"What are you talking about?" Juliet said, nearly choking on her words. "Jack, please-"

"Stop!"

He was breathing hard now. His voice echoed through the armory, his anger ringing in his ears as Jack attempted to pull himself together. He was failing.

"I don't know you!" He exclaimed, just as confused as frustrated.

Juliet was crying now...again.

"What's going on?" She whimpered pathetically. "Please..."

This time, Jack didn't yell at her again. Arm rested on an empty gun cabinet(where were the weapons?), Jack studied Juliet, deciphering what could earn her his sympathy. She was really terrified, or at least appeared to be. But she didn't look necessarily afraid...afraid of what he'd do. She looked terrified for him. Worried. Concerned. At least he could figure out what her story was- or was supposedly.

"Where are you from?" Jack asked, remaining calm as he let go of the cabinet, beginning to pace the room.

Juliet just stared at him, in awe that he would ask this.

"I don't know," she whispered, lip trembling at the question, eyes filled with tears. Softer this time, she spoke up again: "Jack, what-"

"How'd you come to be on this island?" Jack inquired next, ignoring her.

Once again, Juliet simply stared.

"Answer me!" Jack managed to cut himself off before he could really yell at her- his fury was even scaring himself.

"I don't know!" She cried as loudly as she could, struggling to seize her tears.

Jack looked at her, taking in her cold, hurt, eyes. They looked nothing under terror.

"What happened, Jack?" Juliet spoke softly and carefully. Her concerned tone sent shivers up his spine. Why was this woman he didn't even know so worried about him? "Why are you acting like this?"

Jack stared at her, honestly considering her response this time. Maybe he should just play along, he thought, see what he could learn.

"How do I know you?" He asked calmly.

"What?"

"How do I know you?" Jack said again, fighting to maintain patience.

Juliet stared at him for a long moment: studying him, deciphering his question. He could see the uncertainty in her- or at least in her act; and the worry...

"A year ago I was captured," Juliet began quietly. Suddenly her eyes were off him and to the floor, sad with the memory of the story. "I was taken...I don't know where it was. But it was this group of people...these..." she suddenly looked up, searching his eyes while playing with the wording of her answer, "Others." He tried to ignore the resemblance to the castaway's own interpretation of the Others, leaving that theory for later as he knew he had to keep listening. "And three months later, I met you."

Jack stopped. He looked at her in disbelief. Is that why he didn't know her? Because he couldn't remember her? But Juliet ignored his pause, continuing on with her story:

"I only saw you at first," Juliet went on, "but then..." she swallowed, beginning to tear up again, "you don't remember?" She looked up at him, desperate. Her eyes were so full of hope that she was wrong, that he had been lying, Jack almost felt bad for having to tell the truth.

"No," Jack replied quietly, "I don't."

There was a pause. He was certain Juliet was going to began crying again, but she somehow managed to hold herself together. That blank look, though, the desperation and disbelief so boldly revealed in her eyes, was almost worse than the river of emotions. He hated to so easily fall for her story, but part of him wanted to give it a chance. Maybe it'd work, going along with it, but he'd have to work with her, Jack realized, or they'd get nowhere. If she was really telling the truth, she was just as confused as he was. But he still wasn't sure he could trust her. Not until he knew some more of the truth himself...from someone he could trust.

With a plan in mind, Jack turned swiftly, marching towards the door. But when he tried to open it, it was locked.

"Hey!" Jack called, impatient. Did they just assume he'd know they'd lock him in? "Hey, let me out!"

There was a loud sound of a lock clicking before the door opened to reveal Locke. Jack stepped out, closing the door quickly behind him.

"What did you find out?" Locke inquired immediately.

"Nothing," Jack said quickly. He soon changed his mind about lying...while he was gone, either or both men would surely go in to question Juliet, and picking arguments against one another would do no good. "She doesn't know where she's from or how she got here."

"How's that possible?" Locke retorted.

But Sayid wasn't puzzled at all.

"She's lying." He declared. Jack looked to him, surprised by his quick conclusion. "Her story is too easy. It's too...good."

"Then maybe she's telling the truth," Jack heard himself defend, without even having realized his opinion beforehand. He'd have to be more open minded to 'bad', he realized, if he was going to go through with this. He had to stop playing the fair doctor. He needed to stop seeing everyone as the victim. After all, there had to be reason all those patients were there in the first place. Jack sighed. "Or not."

"What do you want to do?" Sayid asked after a short pause.

Mentally, Jack was already taking note of what needed to be changed this time around. For one, he knew, they had to work as a team this time. Broken apart, they did more damage to each other than to their captive. Henry had clearly attempted to turn them against each other, and it worked. That much certainly had to change. But this also meant no more lies. And that much, at least, would help his already forming plan ignite.

"How are you going to find out the truth?" Sayid spoke up again, emphasizing the question with obvious impatience.

"I need to talk to someone," Jack announced, already heading out the door.

"Jack-" Sayid began uncertainly.

"I'll be back soon."

----

He himself felt uncertain, the thought of talking to Kate so soon after that kiss maked his stomach knot. How did she feel about it? Was she even wanting to run this time? Jack swallowed. He had to pull himself together. He could think about that later...there was another task at hand now.

Kate was sitting on the beach when he found her and, sure enough, with Sawyer. A pang of jealousy hit him as he flashbacked to less then an hour ago, when the idea of a relationship with Kate seemed real again. And now, once again, it had failed him. But he had to put that behind him, he reminded himself, at least for now.

"I need to talk to Kate." Jack requested as he approached where Kate and Sawyer were sitting. Sawyer glared at him, clearly annoyed with his interference to their conversation, while Kate looked petrified at his sudden reappearance.

"And your trip back to your magical castle of Dharma wasn't enough for you, Romeo?" Sawyer snapped.

It was all he could do to ignore his comment, knowing now wasn't a smart time to pick fights.

"Forget it," Jack said, shaking his head, "I don't need your permission. Kate-" the name lingered on his tongue as he turned to Kate, meeting her eyes with hope of her acceptance.

Finally, Kate agreed.

"Sure," she said quietly, getting to her feet.

"Stay in sight," Sawyer instructed her coldly, glaring towards Jack again.

Kate stared at him, as though hurt by this order.

"I don't need your permission to talk to Jack," she retorted softly, though defiantly.

With that she turned, walking away with Jack. He led her to the edge of the jungle, and remembering his theory on sticking together, decided to actually stay within Sawyer's sight. The last thing he needed was him being suspicious right now.

"I'm not going to lie to you this time," Jack announced, turning to Kate. She looked up to him, puzzled. Jack took a deep breath. "A woman showed up today. Right after- just awhile ago, in the hatch."

Ignoring the awkward time coincidence, Kate cut in:

"Who is she?"

"She says her name's Juliet," Jack replied, looking away momentarily as he sighed again, still hardly able to comprehend the sudden drastic turn of events. No matter how long their stay on the island lingered, Jack still couldn't be able to accept the countless interferences with the Others, the deaths, the betrayels...all of it. All he could do was go on with it, acting as though he did. Now all that was coming down on him, exhausting him. "She says she knows me." Kate looked at him uncertainly, mocking Sayid's disbelief. "From the captivity..." Kate's reaction told him she understood. Surprised, yet suddenly concerned, Jack knew he now had Kate's interest. "But I don't know if she's telling the truth."

He paused, waiting to see if Kate could see where he was going.

"What do you need me for?" Kate finally spoke up.

Jack glanced towards Sawyer, who was watching their every move. Then he glanced back towards Kate. His plan may prove difficult for them both, but it needed to work. He had to know.

"I need you to tell me everything you know about the past nine months."

Kate's mouth fell open slightly in immediate reaction. She stared at him for a moment before diverting her eyes away, glancing first towards Sawyer and then away again, to a distant place Jack didn't know of. He watched her, hoping she would just be able to understand what he needed and know that, normally, he wouldn't push her like this.

"I-" she began regretfully.

"Please," Jack interrupted before she could reach her rejection. He held up his hands, using every way of emotion he could think of to expose his desperation for her help. Their eyes met. "Please...just think about it."

For a moment Kate watched the ground, not answering. He studied her, watching her reaction. What did she have to hide? What happened that was so bad she couldn't confess it? What was she ashamed of? Afraid of him knowing? Or was she trying to protect him from something?

"Okay," she agreed at last, quietly, "I'll think about it."

He couldn't help but to smile a little.

"Thanks," he offered sincerely.

Kate offered him a small smile, but could manage nothing more. They stood their with the silence that followed, contemplating what should be said next. Who should say it. At last, Kate took the easy way out.

"I should get back," she announced.

Jack glanced towards Sawyer, who was still impatiently waiting for Kate's return.

"Yeah," he agreed reluctantly.

"Bye," Kate whispered, wasting no time to walk away.

Jack looked after her as she went, his heart knotting along with his stomach as she left him. Even after she might tell him what happened, it wouldn't change the present. He wasn't even sure what she wanted now. He could only hope that by offering his truth, she could return the favor.

----

He was relieved to find that Locke and Sayid kept to their word when he returned to the hatch, allowing him to quietly slip back into the armory. Sitting sideways with her head against the wall, Juliet hardly looked up to Jack when he came in this time. She looked distant, definitely not as anxious to see him as before. It took Henry a couple of days to get to this state.

"You okay?" He asked her, honestly concerned.

"I'm tired," Juliet whispered quietly.

Frowning, Jack took the time to really study her. She didn't only look tired, she looked sick, deprived from basic needs for health.

"I brought you something to eat," Jack offered, showing Juliet a bowl of soup. The comment earned him a chuckle. "What?"

Juliet shook her head:

"Nothing."

He decided not to question her, only raising an eyebrow as he sat the food down on a shelf, taking his backpack off.

"I wanted to take a look at your arm," he announced, kneeling down beside her, "if you don't mind."

Her head turned towards him, contemplating his request distantly before replying:

"Okay."

Taking out the needed medical supplies, Jack let the silence pass between them as he took in the calmness of the moment. He could use the break. But, nonetheless, eventually there were questions he needed to ask.

"Can you tell me what happened?" He asked, not demanding as before, but concerned and careful. More like a doctor than an interrogator.

"I just fell," Juliet said quietly. But suddenly she took the moment to her advantage, turning the question back around on him: "What happened to you? Why won't you tell me anything?"

Jack glanced up at her, meeting her eyes. Since his plan was not yet in action, he had to be cautious about what he said. Part of him actually wanted to jump to explanation, wanted to actually believe Juliet was who she said she was in hopes of finding out his answers. But the other part knew the better plan was to wait.

"I will," he promised. She watched him for another minute before turning away. As he cleaned the wound, Jack noticed particles of sand stuck in the blood. At some point, Juliet had been on the beach. That's when Jack realized... "How did you escape?" A pause followed until Jack continued, explaining himself. "If they held you captive, and you're here now, how'd you escape?"

Keeping her distant demeanor, Juliet stared to the ceiling.

"I'll tell you later," she replied.

At her clever answer, she couldn't help but to smile a little, even glancing towards Jack as she did. Jack sighed. If he didn't want to force anything out of her just yet, then there was really nothing more he could do for now.

"I guess I'll have to wait until then," he concluded, standing up and gathering his medical supplies once he finished cleaning the wound.

"Me too," Juliet said, still facing the ceiling.

Jack watched her for a moment, almost expecting her to say something else or turn her personality around once more, becoming once again returning to her horrified and sad essence, but she never did. He knew he'd soon be back to check on her, but in the mean time, there was someone else he had to check up with as well...

----

The graveyard wasn't a place he visited often, if at all. It would remind him of his failure, the one ultimate request he could not fulfill. If there was one thing he owed his mother, it was the simple task of bringing his father back home. But, then again, his mother owed Jack himself so much more.

"How did you know you'd find me here?"

In the end, Kate had proven herself with her promise to have his back. She found him, his father. She buried him.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Jack began as he invented himself to sit down. "How well you can know a person you've just met."

Kate smiled sadly, keeping her eyes on the grave in front of hers. It was his father's. He fell silent when he saw this, tensing as he sat down. The idea of being able to come to his father's grave, to sit down and reminisce, still hadn't sunk in. To no longer have to wonder, to have an opportunity to have that closure...it'd come so fast he almost wasn't prepared for it.

"I cried at his funeral," Kate admitted quietly. He didn't interrupt, letting her talk. "Sawyer and I buried him...it was just-" Kate rested her head against a hand, "too much." She paused, breathing to steady herself, troubled by what she was saying. "I cried because I knew you wanted this so badly...but when it finally happened, you weren't there...you couldn't be there."

He remained silent. He wasn't sure how he could- or should- follow that. It was then he realized how hard confessing the past nine months would be for Kate. It would be a lot of memory, a lot of memory she may not have even made peace with yet. Some she may never make peace with, just like Jack himself- how he felt about his father's death.

"I didn't cry until I saw his body," Jack spoke up softly, the loss coming back to him with heart-wrenching emotion. "I kept it together for so long...all while I was looking for him, I just planned for it to be another confrontation. I'd probably just yell at him, call him an idiot, and everything else." He drew in a deep breath, finding it hard to keep his emotions together. Why hadn't he changed the subject? Any memory of his father, of those tortureous days after his death, even of those days of their feuding the two months before- the silent treatment, the hatred...Jack shuddered at the thought. It was a part of his life he'd never forget, a part so cruel and cold it made up his own troubled story. He needed to be strong now, but with this topic at hand, it was failure waiting to happen. "But when I got the call..." Jack shook his head, still unable to believe the past, "I didn't want to believe it. But then I got to the morgue...and I lost it. I couldn't drive back to the hotel. I just sat there, in the car,...hating myself. Feeling guilty. Feeling..."

He trailed off, realizing how far he was going. Jack shook his head again. He knew it was selfish, but this couldn't be about himself now. Not from first-hand experience, anyway.

"I need your help," Jack choked out, embarrassed to find himself too torn to recover. He'd waited too long, and now the story looked to simply be part of an act. He hated it, but he couldn't help it. And worse, he had to go along with it. "Please..."

----

Somehow he'd managed to pull himself together by the time he'd reached the hatch again. With a nod, Sayid let him enter the armory, noticing, but not questioning, Jack's emotionally drained appearance. Juliet looked asleep when he entered. The bowl of soup was empty now, and Jack realized this must of meant she trust him enough to eat their food. Everything she did, everything she said, made her story so much more believable, even making Jack want to believe her. It'd be so much easier if he could just believe her. But he knew things weren't that easy.

"Are you going to talk now?" She said quietly, as thought talking while arising from a deep sleep.

No sarcastic remark came from him. He had no excuse now. Choosing his former spot, leaning against the empty weapon shelf, Jack took a moment, collecting his thoughts before he began. It was so ironic, he realized, how easily this opportunity had come to him. The opportunity to know the truth...from everyone.

"Nine months ago," he began carefully, "me and three of us were captured. They let one go...and they said the rest of us were going home with them, these...Others. The other two were able to escape, but me-" he shook his head, "I was there for nine months." He paused briefly, mind so overwhelmed by it all. How had something so big happened to him? How was it he was expected to deal with this? "A week ago I came back..." Jack swallowed, knowing the biggest part had yet to come, "but I don't remember any of it."

The reaction came nearly as he'd expected it. He felt like a film critic, familiar enough with the genre that he just knew what was coming. But yet, each time the reaction still got to him. Admitting you know the other is lying, confessing something...eventually the emotion became almost all as one. And nearly impossible to deal with. Too shocked to speak, Juliet let him continue without interruption.

"And if you are who you say you are," Jack went on, forcing himself to continue, "then I'd hope you could me."

"In exchange for what?" Juliet spoke up quietly, after only a short pause, as though she was familiar with how this kind of conversation went.

"In exchange for trust."

It wasn't your typical ransom, but Jack wasn't your typical captor. He wasn't working for the money. He was working for the greater good- for protection, for knowledge. And good intentions had to count for something, right?

After a long pause, he knew he couldn't wait for her answer. Her answer would only bring more questions, and as ready as he had been to find his answers, Jack wasn't sure he could take any more in for that day. He was so emotionally drained he wasn't sure how he'd make it back to the beach to fill Kate in. His head felt heavy, body weak. He needed sleep, but even from here he could foresee hours of restless nights ahead. In a moment that should have been nothing but excitement and anticipation, Jack felt nothing but dread.

"We'll talk in the morning," Jack said, already ready to step out though he had just came in.

"Wait," Juliet's voice stopped him. She paused, studying him before swallowing, forcing her statement out, "you really don't remember me?"

He shook his head. This reaction wasn't predicted. He didn't know what he expected, even though most of Juliet's stay had been tearful. But this, this was just another example of a reaction too emotional to handle. The tears came slowly at first, a quite intake of realization, but then rapidly, streaming down the woman's face in desperate teardrops of sadness. Out of respect he diverted his eyes to the ground, but as he did he caught a glimpse of the woman, and it struck him for the first time how young she was. This woman couldn't have been older than Kate, though perhaps a little closer to his own age. Even so, everything about Juliet emotionally seemed to bring down the numbers of her age, the part of her life in captivity having taken over her. It wasn't noted to be rude, but once again Jack could see a sign of truth in this woman, and he almost found it insulting to think someone wouldn't believe her. She certainly looked the part of someone who had been locked up, who hadn't seen the light of day sense God knew when, who had no freedoms, who lived for nothing but that freedom. She had family somewhere, he realized, someone she loved. Someone who loved her. Perhaps he had been one of those people. And the thought that he didn't even remember her...there wasn't even an excuse needed for her tears.

But even with the deepest of emotions, even in the most believable of acts, in the end, it could all turn out to be just that- an act. And as much as Jack would have liked to have been able to have comfort her, to not have to play with her emotions like this, Jack knew such treatment and relationship would only lead to a deeper connection that would be most difficult to cut, leaving him so vulnerable to manipulation. Hating himself for having to do so, Jack began to steped out.

"Jack." Juliet stopped him once again. Suddenly she was attempting to seize her tears again, forcing a small smile upon her face. "How is she? Kate?" His mouth fell open slightly. He was stuck between feeling at awe and angry. If the Others really were behind this, how dare they use Kate against him. "I know when you saw her a few months ago-"

"What?" The anger was gone. It was amazing, he should have realized, how easily Juliet was able to play his emotions, knowing what would set him off, what would hit close to home.

Juliet didn't answer him, staring at him, terrified like a deer caught in the headlights. She wasn't going to tell him, he wasn't going to find out from her. Truthfully, the idea had never crossed his mind. Now that he thought about it, nine months without seeing anyone- especially Kate seemed like an impossible idea, one that he'd acknowledged but not truly accepted. The sounds of Juliet's soft crying beginning once more leaving a haunting echo in his mind, Jack forced himself to leave the armory. He was even so lost in emotion that the unexpected sight of Sayid still being there, standing guard, hardly surprised him.

"I take it she didn't take it well," Sayid guessed sympathetically.

Jack nodded. Without the support of a wall or the shelves to lean on, Jack was reminded once again how tired and drained he felt, and the thought of going through this every night only brought on more dread.

"Will she be okay?" Sayid asked sincerely.

Jack nodded again.

"She'll have to be," Jack added, his tortured emotions escaping through a struggling voice. "I'll have to be."

"You will be," Sayid assured him.

"I know," Jack said, more lightly this time as he assumed what Sayid would say next, "'in time', right?" An amused smile escaping him, Jack couldn't help but to grin as he shook his head. "I hate time."

Whoever said time healed everything was dead wrong. Because, eventually, time grew impatient. And then you'd begin to simply forget...

Jack sighed.

"I'll be back in a minute," he said, remembering what had to be done next, "I'm staying down here anyway, so-"

"You need sleep," a voice interrupted. He and Sayid turned to see that Locke had returned. "Go on, I'll stay here tonight."

That's what he needed, a night in the hatch on guard duty with Locke. Because he already knew he wouldn't be getting sleep. Nevertheless, Jack could predict there'd be no successful way he could disagree.

"Okay," he agreed, sounding exhausted. With that he left, ignoring the exchange of glance between Sayid and Locke, along with the crying still coming from the armory.

----

Kate was waiting for him when he reached the beach. He almost hated having to call her out like this, knowing this confrontation of memory wasn't what she expected. Everything she told him, everything she had to admit, and she left out this... Why?

"How'd it go?" Kate asked him quietly to assure they weren't overheard.

Jack didn't answer. Hesitating, he glanced around, catching a glimpse of Sawyer sitting by the shore not far away. Night was dawning on them, the sun was gracefully setting on the horizon, and campfires were already spread out amongst the camp; but the blazing fire beside him couldn't keep Sawyer from occastionally glancing towards their way. Taking a deep breath, Jack lowered his voice considerably in attempts to hide their conversation.

"When did you see me?" He inquired. The quick statement caught Kate off-guard, leaving her in silence. "She mentioned that you saw me a few months ago. What was she talking about?"

Eyes trailing unwillingly to him, Jack could see straight through her upcoming lie. There was so much more to the story he didn't know, he realized, so much she was refusing to say. Memories that meant so much to her, memories she wasn't ready to share.

"Nothing." The lie came quietly, barely audible. But Jack heard it, as he'd heard so many of her lies before. He didn't want her to have to lie; he hated she felt the need to. But it seemed to be an unchangeable part of their relationship that would always haunt them. The need to hide, the need to run. "I need to go."

Quietly she turned away, leaving Jack standing there, helpless, confused...

----

_Her muscles ached as she forced herself further up the hill. Every muscle was pushing her down, pleading for her to stop, but she refused. It was just up the hill. She was so close she could feel it. The excitement rushed through her, the key ingredient for her will to move on. Soon, she told herself, all of this would be over._

_"Are you sure it's up here?" Sayid asked for the dozenth time._

_"Yes!" Kate called down to the three men below her. Even with their strength, they were hardly able to keep up with Kate's pace. Her enthusiam was too much for them to match, even if they were all moving towards the same goal._

_"Really?" Sawyer retorted, his sarcasm lost in obvious exhaustion. "'Cause I swear I saw that tree five minutes ago."_

_"I've been up here," Kate began, grabbing onto a vine above her to pull herself up the hill as she talked, making it to the top in seconds, "twice. Three times...if you count the first time they caught me."_

_And, in moments, they were there. At the line. She stopped, catching her breath for the first time though not feeling the full burst of relief. She heard the three men arrive behind her, all panting as well as they caught their breath. Their hike up here may as well been called a run._

_"How do you know they'll be here?" Locke questioned uncertainly._

_Kate immediately shunned his pessimism._

_"They will be," Kate said confidentely, looking around. They had to be. Surely after many a trip up here to search, the Others would eventually grow parinoid of their poking around. Eventually they'd have to show themselves. And then...then they could find Jack. "That thing we saw when we were up here last time- the monster- it works for them. They know we're here."_

_"Very good, Kate!" She turned immediately at the all-too familiar voice. Tom-beardless- stepped out of the trees, a few Others behind him. Kate only recognized a few of them from her short stay in captivity, but she could always note their personalities. One man had short blonde hair and a thick scar on his neck; he was almost like an Other-wannabe: always standing by those in authority, watching their every move and stepping up to help whenever possible. An other she quickly recognized was younger than most of the others, always sticking to the back, looking terrified whenever his mask of authority would slip. These people would be easy to take out. They were the amateurs. When taken off-guard, these people, with the lack of true experience, could easily be taken down. But others, the ones who didn't try too hard or who didn't slip up, would be the tougher to conqure: the middle-aged woman with a bandage wrapped around her knuckles, clutching her rifle like it was a safety blanket. A thirties-looking male with eyes that bore through you, keeping track of your every move. These people would be ready to fight, ready to win. And Tom...he almost seemed to fit into both groups. "I hope you don't mind, the beard began to become an inconvience."_

_"Cut to the chase, Tom," Bea hissed, appearing beside her leader; her hard expression glaring first at Tom and then landing on Kate._

_"Where is he?" Kate demanded, making sure she showed no sign of doubt, of fear. Those emotions she'd only let through at night, when she was alone. The ones buried deep inside her that would, little did she know, begin to arise frequently in the time of only days._

_"We wanted you to know we admire your efforts," Tom went on, adding, "as amusing as they are. Don't worry, if anything happens to your boyfriend, you'll be the first to know."_

_"Where is he?" She demanded again, with more forceful emphasis. She found her hand falling on her gun, ready to pull the weapon out at any given moment. What she had to make sure was that the consequences of her actions wouldn't fall on Jack. Kate cringed at the thought. Had they hurt him? Was he okay? Was he even alive? She felt like she wanted to be sick...if only they would just answer her._

_"Remember Kate," Tom said, almost casually in passing, "we're not the bad guys." And then: "Bring him out!"_

_Her heart pounded as the bushes behind Tom rustled, arms shoving someone through. Just like that, after months of searching, after nights of no sleep, after hours of worry- that a sickening feeling that hadn't left her since she left him- here he was. Still wearing the same clothes as the last time she saw him, Jack stood there, bound and bagged. She shook at the sight of him, and even before the bag was ripped from his head and he was pushed forward once more, she could read the helplessness there within him. The desperation for help. For freedom. His face spoke of it- his eyes a mirror of an S.O.S.- dark, pleading; but hope was soon gone as he realized what was going on, who was standing there in front of him. Taking a step closer to him, Kate felt her eyes water as she reached up, gently brushing a hand against the thick rope around his wrist. She should have never had to see him like this. She was the prisoner, not him._

_"You have three minutes," Tom announced. In unison, the group of Others stepped back, but didn't disapear._

_Their eyes never left each other. Each could feel everyone watching them, could sense the Other's presence, but neither could say anything. It was like they didn't want to risk losing this moment, this one moment of relief. He was safe now, back in the hands of his own people. Kate was certain he was aware of this as his eyes searched hers, as though all his words were only able to pass through this one look. There was so much emotion there Kate couldn't see how he was able to keep it together: the blissful relief of finding having someone else after being alone for so long, of being able to breathe because- for that moment- everything was okay._

_Sawyer did the deed of stepping forward, surprising them all when he was easily able to cut Jack's binds without Other interferance. Still silent, Jack's hands dropped as the rope fell, Jack himself seeming shocked with relief as red and bruised wrist were revealed from the binds. The sight made Kate cringe, and she tensed as she raised a hand to one of his, carefully acknowledging the wounds as she did. Jack winced at the touch._

_"Come on!" Sawyer's voice hissed suddenly._

_Before she was ready for it, Jack was ripped away from her grip. Sawyer had turned, racing back down the hill, supporting Jack's obviously weak weight as he did._

_"Sawyer!" Sayid scolded as the three chased after them, fighting to keep up._

_"Like hell if I'm just going to sit there and watch them take him back!" Sawyer snapped._

_Worried, Kate glanced towards Jack as she ran along side of them, silentely agreeing; but at seeing his pale skin, the sickly look upon his face, she wished they could stop. But, realistically thinking, this was the only way they could help him._

_"They're not going to let you just take him back," Locke argued, obviouslly agreeing with Sayid._

_Already they were nearly a couple of yards from the Others, but not far enough when Jack suddenly stopped, everyone else slowing down with him. Kate was immediately at his side, helping him lower himself to the ground as he nearly collasped._

_"What are you doing?" Sawyer exclaimed, still on his feet and ready to continue on with their escape._

_"He's weak, Sawyer!" Kate shot as she knealed down beside Jack. He'd come out of his shock, though he now looked hardly aware of his surroundings. He was shaking, voice fighting to get out as he opened his mouth. "Jack-" she began softly, a comforting hand laying on his shoulder._

_"Does anyone have any water?" Jack asked suddenly, finding his voice._

_The group glanced around each other as Jack kept his eyes vacantly to the ground._

_"Yeah," Sawyer said at last. It was a shock they would come over only slowly. After not having heard his voice in months, the idea of having Jack back was beginning to honestly sink in at the request. "Here." _

_Jack took the water gratefully, and the four of them watched as he shoved it down his throat, one swallow after another. He must be dehydrated, Kate realized, but surely they hadn't deprived him of water for so long...they couldn't of. He'd be dead, she told herself. At least, to a point, she had assurance he had been taken care of. But all sympathy for the Others aside, Jack looked anything but okay. His whole body seemed to be shaking, rocking back and forth where he sat on the ground. A few notable cuts and bruises she didn't recognize stood out against his pale skin, and he was cold to the touch._

_Sawyer watched incredulously as Jack drained the water bottle empty, clearly having to remind himself not to be angry._

_"Any food?" Jack asked hurridely as soon as the water was gone._

_Kate bit her lip as she watched him. She almost felt angry that this was how he was spending his first few minutes as a free man- his first few minutes back with her. But she reminded herself not to be angry with him...this might have been the most sympathy he had received since she last saw him._

_"Yeah," Locke answered finally, taking off his backpack. He pulled out an energy bar and handed it to Jack. Accepting the piece of food, Jack unwrapped it quickly, hands shaking as he raised to to his mouth. But once he began eating, Jack was finally able to calm down, his shaking becoming controled, the rocking of his body not as violent._

_"How're they treatin' ya?" Sawyer asked after a pause of silence._

_Jack took a thoughtful break from eating._

_"Okay," he replied._

_Kate bit her lip. Was he covering up for them?_

_"Did they hurt you?" She blurted out._

_Stopping before he could finish off the energy bar, Jack looked to her. His eyes told her everything she needed to know. Of course they had hurt him. It probably did him worse emotionally for her to even ask. The bruises, the scars, they all told stories she didn't even know. Jack could lie all he wanted to, but fact was, he was most definetely not okay. They hadn't treated him okay, not as long as he was still locked up._

_"Can I talk to Jack for a minute?" Kate asked quietly, Jack's eyes having never left hers. "Alone?"_

_"I'm fine," Jack spoke up. At least he was beginning to sound like his old self again...but that wasn't necessarily a good thing._

_Her stare turned cold, warning him not to object; and the others new better to not as well. _

_"Sure," Locke said as they got to his feet. He lowered a hand to Jack, as though wanting to shake hands. "It's good to have you back."_

_Jack didn't agree to the handshake. He just stared up at the man, looking dazed, puzzled. After an awkward pause of silence, and with both Sawyer and Sayid noting against Jack's bruised wrist, Locke offered Jack a sympathetic and understanding smile as they turned, marking their departure. Once they were gone, Jack looked to Kate. Now she found herself hardly able to make eye contact with him. He just looked so...weak. And worse, it seemed like Jack knew this as well. It wasn't an insult, it was the truth._

_"How's everyone else?" Jack spoke up quietly._

_Kate bit her lip, holding back a rant of emotions as she thought to reply. Always the one to think of everyone else._

_"They're worried," she admitted. "They're afraid-" no longer having the safety guard of biting her lip, Kate swallowed, closing her eyes tightly, fighting tears. She could be strong...of all times, she could be strong now. She needed to be, for them. For him. "They're terrified."_

_He stared at her for the longest moment, horrified by the answer- the truth- the horrific truth of how this was effecting them all. And then, just as she was worried about breaking down in front of him, her own determination to be strong failing her, it was Jack whose eyes began to water. And all she could do was sit there, waiting...she didn't have the words to confront him. Nothing seemed strong enough._

_"I want to go back," Jack choked out quietly, painfully. He looked down to the ground, but his gaze seemed to wonder as he attempted to regain control over his emotions. "But I'll never get out of there..."_

_Choking back a sob Jack, defeated, raised a hand to his mouth, as though sick, a disgusted and yet horrified expression on his face. She'd never seen him cry before. Not really, anyway. Through it all he'd managed to hold it together- finding Charlie apparentely dead, Boone's death, Shannon's death, Ana-Lucia's death...but death didn't seem to match what ever torture he'd been forced under._

_"I want to go," he added, "but..."_

_He knew he was too weak. Hell, he was probably too weak to make it down the hill. She couldn't see how it was the Others managed to bring Jack out here, but at the thought the sight of the bruises coloring his wrist and the scars from the worn rag reminded her all too well of the possibilities. _

_Running had always given her some kind of hope, a way out; and she knew too closely the feeling of being trapped. She wished he could know that she was trying to save him, risking her life to get him out of there. She wanted him to know he hadn't been forgotten. He needed that comfort, that hope._

_"Jack-"_

_"Kate..."_

_She shuddered at the sound of her name coming from his voice. She hadn't heard it in so long, and so long had she yearned to hear it. Never would she have predicted she'd miss him so much. Never could she have predicted the void in her life once he was gone. She just needed him back so desperately...she needed to know where he was, if he was okay. She couldn't stand not knowing. Not having any control over what was happening. She had looked and looked for him, and now here he was. And soon he'd be gone._

_Sooner than she'd hope._

_"Three minutes is up," a voice interrupted roughly. An Other appeared behind Jack, ready to yank him up from where he sat, collasped on the ground._

_No! She wasn't ready for this yet. How evil was that hope that'd eased her mind, the relief she'd been led to believe upon seeing him? To be misled like that, betrayed... She'd been so ready to be happy._

_"Please," she pleaded, finding her tears emerging quickly- her emotions already ready for the emotional defeat ahead, "three more minutes."_

_She wasn't sure where the time frame came from. Not three minutes. Three hours. Three days. An infinaty._

_ Even with her brutal experience, Kate wasn't able to recover from her tears as quickly as she would have liked, but her broken appearance seemed to help._

_"All right," Tom agreed, finally, "three more minutes."_

_So selfish was the thought to not even consider alerting the other three. But she couldn't help it. A month. A _month_. Even this offer of more time would never be enough to explain her emotions, to cancel out all those feelings. To appologize. To accept redemption. To earn back that time..._

_"It'll be okay," Jack assured her. Through her sorrow, Kate seemed to have forotten her tears...and Jack's role in all this. And how selfish was it that she was only considering herself and her own wishes? "Hey, Kate..." Soothing hands suddenly rubbed against her arms, callused and scarred skin desperately attempting to comfort her._

_"I'll get you out of this," she promised, shaking away her tears, "Jack..."_

_Her attempts at seizing her tears failed. So violently she cried, all of those hidden emotions able to reveal themselves in front of him. His arms wrapped around her suddenly, pulling her into an embrace as he held her._

_"I'm sorry," she whispered, voice shaking. "I'm sorry..."_

_This was all her fault. She did this to him. She had left him. She had run from him, again. She left him there...with those people... She could feel him holding onto her, rubbing her back soothingly and doing everything he could to comfort her. She didn't deserve that comfort._

_"It's okay," she heard him whisper in her ear, and it all became too much._

_"No," she shook her head, pulling away from him, "no, it's not okay. Whatever they did to you...I'm sorry."_

_At the thought she trembled roughly, hands gripping his bruised arms for support. She sobbed as she noted the wounds there, biting her lip, trying to keep herself from crying even harder and not even acknowledging the pain. But soon this failed, the pain catching up to her with one loud sob. _

_"I'm sorry, Jack," she repeated, "I'm sorry..."_

_"Plan's changed." It was a like a voice from a horrific nightmare; one she had never wanted to hear again. Tom stepped back into the scene, two Others behind him. One was carrying a thick piece of rope in one hand; the other was carrying a burlap sack. She felt like she'd be sick at the site._

_"No!" Kate exclaimed, her strict guard forgotten. She didn't bother holding back the tears, catching her sobs. She just held on tightly to him as Jack was pulled from her. Kate jerked forwards with him but was immediately pushed back. _They don't want me..._she realized_...they just want him. _It was too much like with Charlie and Claire- they only wanted the one you cared about. "It hasn't been three minutes!"_

_Footsteps sped to her rescue from behind, but Kate didn't take notice. Sayid, Locke, and Sawyer were back at the cue of her screams._

_"Patience, Kate," Tom smirked. Already Jack was being tied up again, looking openly terrified._

_"No!" Kate screamed again, throwing herself towards Jack again. She was quickly pulled back as she spotted one of the Other's guns. She had a gun too, she remembered, if only she could get to it..._

_But Sayid was holding her back._

_"No!" The desperate cry came from her again. And she really was crying. She couldn't just watch this happen- it made her feel cruel...guilt wasn't even a close enough word for it. She soon found her tears buried into Sayid's shoulder as he turned her away, watching the scene gravely himself; but as Jack's hands were being safely bound, she found herself not lashing out once more at the Others, but again trying to comfort Jack...reassure him. "I'll find you..." she told him as she choked out a sob, "I promise..."_

_The Others ignored her. Sayid was pulling her back again, hiding her from the scene, but she fought for that one last exchange of glances with Jack. Fought to know he had heard her. _

_"Let's go," Tom announced. _

_"I don't believe this," Sawyer muttered under his breath, saving her from the trouble. He pulled out a gun and, before anyone could stop him, shot two of the Others near Tom. Kate shook at the sound of the gunshots. The gun turned then to the man who had bound Jack, who was holding Jack's shoulders tightly, making sure he wouldn't get away. And he was going to make sure he himself wasn't going to get shot as well. A gun was pointed at Jack's head in seconds. Silence passed as all eyes fell on Sawyer. Kate looked to Jack, who looked both terrified and grateful. But they wouldn't win. All of them knew it. Slowly, Sawyer finally brought down the gun. He turned away, clearly angry with his failure._

_"Let's go," said the man holding the gun to Jack's head, echoing Tom's words._

_Kate shook once more, trembling violently as Sayid's hand clutching to hers was the only force holding her back. He was trying to protect Jack, she knew- they couldn't win- but still she was angry with him for holding her back. For depriving her of those last few moments. She held Jack's gaze, silently repeating her words over and over again. Desperately she hoped he'd heard her, that he'd believed her. If she owed him anything, it was that hope._

_And at last, in one brutally, torturous moment, the sack fell down over Jack's head. Their connection was ripped apart, and already Kate could feel herself drifting away from him. She couldn't take it. Fighting against Sayid's hold, Kate took the last few moments to cry out, repeating her earlier words- her promise- until she was pulled back even harder, forced to turn away as the Others slowly retreated. _

_Never again would anyone speak of that moment, of the first time she openly admitted her emotions to them all. He was alone there...Jack no longer had anyone, and that was her fault; and until that was fixed, that was the treatment she had thought she deserved as well. But as much as she would have liked to have stayed true that theory, she just couldn't. _

_Later, they would even tell her that's what he would have wanted._

She stopped only a few feet from him, tears forming in her eyes as she forced herself to turn around to him. She didn't want him to know how weak she'd been, she realized. But now her clues were giving herself away.

"Kate!" Jack called after her. She shuddered, remembering when he said her name back then, all those months ago. She had thought it'd be the last time she'd hear it from him.

"Hey!" Someone interrupted, calling out to Jack angrily.

Kate froze, immediately recognizing the voice as Sawyer's. As she finally came out of her shock, she ran towards him, attempting to pull him away from heading towards Jack. Sawyer simply shoved her away.

"I think we're done here," he declared gruffly.

"Hey-" Jack began, defensively.

"If she wants to go, she can go," Sawyer snapped coldly.

"Sawyer-" but Kate was cut off.

"She doesn't need your permission to walk away," Sawyer retorted, glaring at Jack, daring him to speak.

Jack did.

"Hey, I-"

Sawyer wasn't about to give Jack the opportunity to defend himself- verbally or phsyically. Jack cried out in pain as one punch to the jaw sent him tumbling back.

"Sawyer!" Kate exclaimed, horrified.

She attempted to pull him back, but he ignored her, already taking another swing at Jack, this time knocking him to the ground. Kate threw herself forward, again attempting to pull Sawyer off Jack as he threw another punch. He seemed oblivous to reality, as though beating up Jack was his most important goal in life. Kate was shoved back again, harder this time. Catching herself as she stumbled back, Kate called for Sawyer to stop again, cringing at Jack's muffled cries of pain. Sawyer looked to be in a trance, hitting Jack with all his strength, actually _concentrating_ on hurting him.

By this time, the fight had drawn attention. Sayid was running over and was able to successfully pull Sawyer off of Jack. Immediately Kate dropped to the ground, knealing beside Jack, helping him as he struggled to sit up. He was coughing hoarsely; his chin was coated in blood.

"Jack-" Kate began sympathetically, voice full of guilt.

But Jack shoved the sympathy aside- literally- as he pushed her away, ignoring his injuries as he scrambled to his feet. Sawyer had already broken away from Sayid's hold, making himself an easy target for Jack. Throwing his arm around sloppily, Jack hit Sawyer with a weak punch, barely sending him stumbling back a step. Jack watched, frustrated and breathing heavily- humiliated as a crowd began forming around the two- as Sawyer looked away, shaking the punch off with a laugh. Only a moment of this set Jack off even worse. More determined this time, Jack swung his around around, his fist connecting with Sawyer's jaw with a sickening crack. Surprised by the successful impact, Sawyer fell back a step, and Jack took his opportunity. He leaped towards the man, just as Sawyer had done to him, sending him crashing to the ground.

Kate was now calling his name, horrified by Jack's reaction to the fight. She could hear Jack yelling something at Sawyer, but with the fast pace of the fight, she couldn't keep up. In reality, Jack had only been able to hit Sawyer again once- twice- before Sayid pulled him away. No longer sympathetic, Sayid threw Jack- who, despite his difficult attempts to catch his breath, looked triumpant- to the side. Sawyer was now on the ground, sitting up. He didn't look ready to admit defeat, which was one of the reasons why Kate was quick to fall to his side. She didn't realize Jack was watching, didn't realize the hurt expression that suddenly ate away his pride as Jack noted the simular act of sympathy and kindness. Only after she saw Sawyer still glaring at Jack, though now looking pointlessly triumphant himself, did Kate think to look back. She caught Jack's gaze as she realized who she was supposed to be looking at, and everyone around her seemed just as aware as Jack of what she had done.

"Jack-" she began, embarrased and guilty, despite everyone else's presence.

He ignored her. The entire camp watched as Jack forcefully turned, heading back towards the jungle with the slightest trace of a limp. On instinct she began to stand to go after him- she never thought she'd be punished for helping either of them.

"I'll go," Sayid offered.

Kate looked to him, momentarily stunned in attempts to keep up with what was going on.

"Yeah," Sawyer agreed, "let the man go."

She glared down towards him, disgusted. Though he was the one left on the ground, Sawyer was obviously pleased with how the fight ended. By the time she looked back up, Sayid had already gone to catch up with Jack. Upon his departure, the crowd around them began to break up, leaving Sawyer and Kate alone. She watched them leave until Sawyer was the only one she had left to turn to.

"Well," he said, grinning though in obvious pain, "looks like I won."

----

"I'm fine," Jack protested as Sayid helped him back to the hatch.

"You're lucky," Sayid retorted.

Jack grunted. Even he could admit Sayid was right. Jack didn't doubt that with the right amount of anger and- with what he thought- was the right amount of reason, Sawyer would be able to kill someone. And that strength had its pros and cons.

It was quiet for a few moments, and there was only a little ways until they would reach the hatch.

"You didn't have to cover for me," Jack told him, "she knows."

"About Juliet?" Sayid replied, sounding faintly angry.

Jack nodded.

"I have to be honest with her," Jack explained. He stopped as they reached the hatch door, momentarily resting an arm against it for support. He looked to Sayid, sincere with what he was about to say and wanting Sayid to understand. "It's my only hope."

Sayid met eyes with him for an honest moment, considering Jack's theory.

"Have you ever considered she's not ready for this," Sayid began quietly.

Jack looked away, knowing what Sayid meant. Maybe Kate wasn't ready to restart their relationship or to end hers with Sawyer. But his nine months away taught him, of anything, that he needed to be more cautious of time.

"Maybe I don't have time to wait," Jack replied. He glanced towards Sayid, meeting his reaction of both concern and understanding. Jack offered him a small smile and picked himself off the wall of the hatch door, signaling he was ready to go inside.

----

"What happened?" Locked greeted, concerned, as Sayid helped Jack into the kitchen.

"Sawyer," Jack replied, the still-standing humiliation of the truth with him through his bitter answer.

Sayid let go of him as they reached the kitchen table, Jack openly grateful at being able to rest without being puched. Closing his eyes, Jack took a moment to let his mind catch up. But the actual fight, he realized, wasn't even top priority anymore. All he could see when he closed his eyes was Kate falling down to help Sawyer, just as she had done for him. It wasn't necessarily a wrong course of action to take, it just stood out at that moment as something so familiar, so simular...his first reaction was to feel betrayed.

"Here," Sayid said, snapping him back to the present. An icey bottle of water greeted him. "It's cold."

Jack took the water gratefully, not drinking it but placing it to his face, sore from the fight. Working quickly, Sayid fished through a box serving as a first aid kit, pulling out a few clean hand towels. Puzzled, Jack reached up and wiped a hand across his face. He drew back blood.

"I've got it," he said, struggling to snatch the hand towel from Sayid. Sayid glared at him, and Jack sighed, letting him clean the wound above his eye. As he did, Jack glanced towards Locke, who was keeping guard at the door, throwing parinoid glances around the hatch- all landing back at the armary. "Has she said anything?"

Locke turned to him, replying simply:

"No."

and turning back to the rest of the hatch.

----

He'd offered to clean up the kitchen, it being his own blood that coated the now-dirty hand towels and leaving smeared stains on the table. His head pounded, and he yearned for some kind of pain reliever, but Jack forced himself to wait. There were still some things he needed to do before he were to be lured to sleep by pain medication.

A shadow appeared in the doorway. Jack looked up. Talking to Kate had admittedely not been one of those things he needed to do. Not just yet.

"Jack," Kate began hurriedly, as to keep him from walking away.

He turned anyway. Her eyes watched as he went back to cleaning up, waiting for him to stop. He didn't.

"Are you okay?" She spoke up quietly.

Jack shook the concern away. She continued to watch him, eyes watering with hurt.

"Jack-"

More forcefully than meant, Jack threw down the bottle of water he'd been holding, missing the counter completely. At the impact of hitting the floor, the cap came off, sending the water streaming across the floor towards Kate. The crash sent them both into silence, and they looked at each other, both equally confused. When did their relationship come to this? Forced conversations and arguments?

"I'm sorry," Jack said quietly, honestly, interrupting the silence as he bent down to clean up the water. It was a few moments before Kate offered to help; and Jack realized that he was waiting for her to. Not because he needed the help, but because he wanted to know if she still could offer that kind of sympathy. If she would. And, eventually, she did. Bending down, she grabbed a towel and began to clean the mess. They met eyes briefly, looking away as quickly as he did. A faint smile appeared on Kate's face.

"Sawyer's lip's going to be swollen for days," Kate announced proudly.

"Kate-" Jack stopped her, not finding the comment amusing. Of anything, it was almost insulting. It was too clear what she was doing. "Don't."

"Jack, I-" Kate began desperately.

"You probably just said the same thing to him about me," Jack explained pointedly, meeting her eyes with a daring stare. She looked to the ground. Jack heaved a sigh, guilty. Maybe that wasn't the conclusion to make... "Stop trying to win us over." He stood up, gathering the now-soaked towels. "You've-" _'you've already won us over'_, he realized he was about to say.

Kate looked to him, expecting him to go on.

"I'm sorry," Jack excused quickly, shaking his head and running a hand over his head in exhaustion, "I'm tired."

He began to walk away, heading towards the back of the kitchen. Spotting an empty cereal bowl, Jack was reminded that he hadn't eaten since morning, and hunger began catching up to him. Maybe he should just eat and get some rest.

And where would she go? He realized. Probably back to Sawyer...if he needed to find her, that was usually the place. What made her leave? But what made her go back? What made her kiss him and what made her regret it? Did she mean what she had said?

"Do you love him?" Jack blurted out. He forced himself to calm down, explain himself. He couldn't scare her...he needed to know. "Do you really?"

Kate looked to the ground, hiding her reaction. He watched her, waiting as she seemed to curl into a ball, hands grasping the towels in her fist for support.

"Do you?" Jack asked again, more forcefully this time.

She shook at his angry tone. Tears were began to escape her, and soon Kate was in a classic breakdown. She sat there, crying, on the floor, shaking her head in disbelief at the question. Forever she seemed to cry, leaving Jack to wait, until...

"Yes." She choked out, desperately wiping tears from her eyes. Jack's heart fell. Then it was all for nothing. He himself was the one she returned to out of sympathy. He himself was the one who... "I don't know-"

Her added reply left her breaking into uncontrolable sobs and Kate fell forward, shaking as she lowered her head to the floor. He watched her, feeling helpless yet despertate to hear more. For further explanation. What didn't she know? But as Kate's own helpless emotions poured out, yearning for sympathetic relief, he found himself unable to ask. He should go to her, he thought. But what would she think? She needed the guy she could go to in a time like this, not the one that would lead her to be in this situation. She needed the one who would understand her, be patient. She needed time. She needed space.

"I'm gonna go to bed," Jack announced, turning around and heading for the exit. He could still hear her crying behind him, and it killed him to not turn back for her. But how could he comfort her from his own mistake?

But Jack still found himself stopping at the door. What was he doing? Running? How many times before would he have given anything for Kate to talk to him? For forgivness or for her to accept forgivness? She didn't know...she didn't know because he was there. Because both of them were there. There was so much past behind this, how could he expect her to have an answer? It would all come together...he'd have to have time to wait. A little time, at least.

"I'm not mad," Jack assured her honestly. Kate's tears siezed quietly, and he could practically see her eyes watching the floor, though her long hair had already englufed her face. "I'm just...I'm gonna give you some space."

This time, Kate looked up. Face streaked with tears, she watched him. She looked like she wanted to protest, but at the same time, like she could have agreed.

"I shouldn't be pushing you to leave him," Jack admited. Even though, deep down, he might be able admit this, it didn't mean it was the right thing to do.

"I'd be flattered if you didn't," Kate teased, smiling softly through her silent tears. Jack returned the grin, only for Kate to divert her eyes away as a moment of peace reached them.

"I'll just..." Jack trailed off. Here he was, running again. But maybe this was for the best...Kate needed time to decide what she wanted. "Give you some time."

He paused, finishing. A moment passed before Jack decided he couldn't stand the silence- Kate sitting there, contemplating his decision- and gave the wall a pat as he left. If he was going to agree to allow her space, he needed to get used to doing just that.

When he entered the room, leaving Kate alone in the kitchen, Jack saw that Locke was still there. Posted outside the armory door, Locke leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets. He was looking to the ground, caught off-guard when Jack walked in. Locke looked tired, Jack noted.

"I'll take it from here," Jack offered. Though he was tired as well, Jack was dreadfully reminded that whatever sleep he could manage to get- if any- would not be peaceful. He knew he'd find himself wondering back to the depths of the hatch, even contemplating about continuing his interrogation in the armory.

Locke looked up to him at his entrance.

"I'm good," Locke said, waving away Jack's offer, "you go rest."

He nodded towards Jack, obviously noting the aftermath of his fight with Sawyer.

"I've got it, really," Jack protested, already heading towards the armory door, wondering if Juliet'd had anything else to eat.

"Shh!" Locke warned, bringing a finger to his mouth with one hand and holding the armory door shut with the other.

"She's still asleep?" Jack inquired, eyebrows rising.

Locke nodded. Jack hesitated, listening for any noise from the armory. There was none. Grabbing the rolling chair from nearby, Jack sat down.

"I'll wait up for her," he said, mind already made up.

Locke hesitating, waiting for Jack to change his mind. When he never did, Locke had no choice.

"Good night, then," Locke said, and left.

But once Locke left, Jack sighed, resting his head on the chair as he had turned it backwards to sit in. He listened hard for a sound coming from Juliet, but he could still hear nothing. It was going to be quiet tonight, he realized, and he needed to stay awake. He could only hope that Juliet would wake up. Perhaps the calm and quiet surrounding would urge her to speak and urge Jack to be brave enough to listen. Of anything, he was still wanting to know what this reuninion with Kate was she mentioned, and why it was so difficult to for Kate to talk about.

And still it was hard to believe that only hours ago, just that same day, they had kissed for a second time. Things had been looking hopeful again, but just like that, they were shot down. How much of that had been because he'd insisted on walking away? Insisted on giving her space? He could hope that at least he had done the right thing by telling the truth.

Jack side, already blinking away exhaustion his reeling mind. Staying awake may not be hard but attempting to stay sane might just kill him.

----

He was rudely awake by a kick to the shin, sending him leaping up in pain.

"What the hell?" He exclaimed tiredely.

Jack stopped. When had he fallen asleep? He couldn't remember. All he could remember was sitting and waiting for Juliet to say something. Sitting, waiting, getting sleepy...he'd never wished for that damn alarm to sound again like he had tonight. But, in the end, he'd given up. His body had let itself pass into rest, only to now be forced awake by...Sawyer?

"Have you seen Kate?" Sawyer demanded, ignoring Jack's cry of pain as he began pacing the room.

Blinking, Jack shook himself awake at the mention of Kate and Sawyer's frustration.

"She was here earlier," Jack admitted, "I thought she left."

"Yeah?" Sawyer retortred coldly. "Then where is she now?"

Jack looked up to him in horrific realization as he discovered what was going on: Kate was missing.

----

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews! Just a reminder that anything that happens in the show won't necessarily effect plots in this story.

Thanks again!

Until Next Time...

October Sky


	9. In A Broken Dream

Life Interrupted

Chapter Ten

**Disclaimer: **"In A Broken Dream" is a song by Python Lee Jackson, featuring Rod Stewart.

**Chapter Ten: **In A Broken Dream

Her name echoed through the darkness, and Jack worried that if she hadn't heard them by now, then she was too far out for them to find her by night. But they kept searching and kept calling, both desperately trying push that dread aside in exchange for any sign of hope.

"You aren't getting us lost, are you?" Sawyer demanded from behind him as Jack continue to rush forward. "'Cause this ain't exactly how I planned spending my birthday...getting lost in the jungle and all." Sawyer shrugged; he began slowing down, forced to a slower pace out of obvious exhaustion. He'd clearly been worrying long before he'd come to Jack. "Though I've got to admit, beatin' you up beats the cheap cologne I got last year."

Jack glanced behind him, surprised at the comment.

"It's your birthday?" Jack said.

"Yup," Sawyer replied, grinning. His pleased voice soon faded as he muttered, adding: "happy birthday to me."

Jack snorted, but he couldn't blame Sawyer's cold attitude- especially knowing the other point of view of the day. The point of view where he'd kissed Kate.

"I probably spent mine in captivity," Jack commented dully, determined not to feel guilty. It would only slow him down, and they needed to find Kate. Quickly. He couldn't stand this...it was like having bad karma. Like Kate was being punished because of him. That was his current theory.

"When is your birthday, anyway?" Sawyer asked casually, like they hadn't just attempted to beat each other to death earlier.

Jack considered the question, opening his mouth to answer. But nothing came out. Suddenly Jack stopped, the first break he'd taken since he'd received word of Kate's disapearance. His mind was completely blank. He couldn't answer Sawyer because he didn't know...he couldn't remember...when his birthday was.

"You really are getting older, aren't you?" Sawyer teased. But he stopped at Jack's serious, worried, expression. "It's probably nothing. It'll come back to you."

_Everyday I spend my time_

_Drinking wine_

_Feeling fine..._

The song came to him out of nowhere. Just like that it was stuck in his head again, and Jack knew this time he knew it from somewhere. Sawyer began walking forward again, but Jack stayed still.

"What?" Sawyer inquired immediately, spinning around to face him.

Jack blinked.

"I really don't remember."

"Remember what?"

"My birthday." Jack raised a hand to his head, as though he were trying to pull the memory out of his head. Instead, he found his mind falling further into a clueless darkness. "I don't remember any of my birthdays."

He felt like he should be coming out and saying, "like when I was ten, and...". But he couldn't even think of one detail. There was nothing. His mind was blank. Sawyer stared back at him, looking honestly puzzled.

"Well," he said, "ain't that odd."

A quiet sob choked out from someone near by. Jack's heart stopped, and he voiced his relief:

"Kate."

"How did she not hear us?" Sawyer snapped, clearly angry as they rushed off to find her.

The ground disapeared beneath them as they followed the soft cry that echoed in the back of their mind. Jack tried not to consider how little he had heard Kate cry. Nevertheless, Jack found himself lost in a world too distant to notice the reality in front of him, and he was only jolted from his thoughts as he landed hard on the ground, knees buckling as they hit rock and hands scrapping against twigs and mud. Sawyer hardly offered a hand to help him up before delaring:

"You should stay here."

"I'm fine," Jack protested, already picking himself off the ground. His mind was spinning in all of pain, worry, and still confusion, but he had to keep going. But before he knew it he was being pushed back into the bushes and off the trail.

----

She heaved a sigh as she attempted to cease her tears. Over the past nine months, breakdowns had began to come naturally to her. It was amazing, she remembered thinking, how the loss of one person could affect her so much. But it wasn't just because Jack was missing- and dead. It was years of guilt and anger stored within her that had finally found its escape. It was new guilt, frustration, and self-hatred, that was just so much to handle that eventually it would become impossible to deal with. And then all that guilt, all that anger, was ripped from her, freed from her, in one moment. When Jack walked through that hatch door just a week ago, everything changed. And she had expected that when that change came, it would bring nothing but relief to her. But being able to move on and reality seemed to clash sometimes, and the impact was far more harmful than she expected.

"Sorry, Freckles," a voice behind her began.

Jumping slightly, Kate barely turned her head to find Sawyer walking towards her. The flash of a grin she caught on his face didn't hide the obvious relief rushing through him.

"Looks like you're it." He touched her shoulder, as though they were playing tag. Or hide and seek.

Kate smiled sadly, looking away.

"Too bad I can outrun you," Kate joked, a hint of sadness in her remaining tears. She couldn't help but to grin. "And don't lie. I know Jack won that race."

Sawyer glared at her.

"How the hell did you know about that?" He shot. Kate just shrugged and turned away. He sat down next to her, still bitter as he added under his breath: "So much for quitting smoking helping me live and stuff."

She wanted to yell at him for interrupting the once silent jungle that had attempted to comfort her, but she instead found herself grateful for the comic relief. Her tears began to gradually disapear as she found herself smiling at Sawyer's attitude, pushing her breakdown away.

"You didn't quit," she reminded him, "you stopped because you ran out of cigarets."

"Same difference," Sawyer muttered bitterly.

Kate rolled her eyes.

"I still can't believe you left a note for the food-drop people to bring cigarets to you," she teased, glancing towards him.

"Sorry," he shot sarcastically, "I figured if they're gonna keep me on this damn island they can do me a favor."

Kate snorted, but suddenly found that her sense of humor was failing her. Drawing her knees to her chest, Kate remembered the many plans they had regarding the food drop. They assumed someone came by and picked the parachutes up, since there was no storage place for them around and Desmond couldn't recall Kelvin mentioning desposing of them. So they began to leave notes. Eventually, someone would even stand guard or do a steak out...two plans which resulted in no response whatsover. It had been perhaps the biggest blow to their hopes of rescue.

"What're you doing out here?" Sawyer asked, voice serious now. He looked at her, concerned. Kate didn't answer. Eyes to the ground, she kept her thoughts to herself. She wasn't sure what she could and couldn't tell him or how angry he'd be. "What the hell's going on with you?" She wondered how much he would take before he gave up on her. How much of her confussion and uncertainty could he handle before he decided that maybe they just weren't meant to be? "Come on, Kate. Don't shut me out. What's-"

Suddenly she spun around, grabbing his wrist. Her emotions began to pour out of her uncontrolably as Kate responded to his concern.

"This!" Kate shouted, thrusting his hand towards his face, revealing bruised knuckles from where he had beat up Jack. You and him!" Her eyes swelled with tears as she stared at him, meeting his eyes as he stared back, looking betrayed. "It's, it's just...we ruined his life, Sawyer." She shook as the familiar guilt overtook her once more, becoming so violent and so harsh that she felt she might break at any moment. "We owe him everything!" She bit her lip as it trembled, emotions shaking as she did, shivering in the cool night. Finally she stopped shouting as she let the guilt run its course, leaving Sawyer out of it. "I owe him everything."

She wanted him to understand that part of what she was going through. Her eyes still locked with his, Kate shook as she desperately hoped he'd understand. Jack didn't deserve for her to turn away from him. She owed him that second chance, and he had every right to hate her if she didn't give it to him.

Sawyer shook his head.

"Don't do this because you owe it to him," he disagreed.

It wasn't just that.

"It's not just that."

'What if' seemed to be far too much a common question to cause so much pain each time it was asked. But each time it came and each time it was quick not to disapoint.

"Maybe," she began, gathering up the strength required for her confession, "maybe I'm thinking that I might have had some feelings for him."

"You think?" Sawyer shot. He was angry.

"Maybe,"

Maybe she had been thinking..._was_ she sorry for kissing him? Would it have been such a horrible thing if he had come around and forgiven her, if they were given another chance?

"Maybe I still have some feelings for him."

Her voice softened but not because of lack of confidence for her confession. It softened with the realization, as she admitted those feelings out loud. And not even to Jack...to Sawyer. How was he supposed to answer to that? Even she didn't expect him to be accepting. But when he stayed silent a moment too long for her liking, she couldn't help but to be curious:

"What are you thinking?" She asked him, not demanding but calm, wondering.

"What the hell am I supposed to think?" He leaped up, turning around to walk off his anger. "Everyone's saying 'Oh you have to be respectful of Jack, he's the one who's been missing. It wasn't _his_ choice. It's not fair to _him_.'" He spun around, shouting angrily at both her and the world. "Well it's not fair to me either!"

Kate drew in a quick breath.

"I know," she whispered.

She shook a little, waiting for his reply. Her mind swerved in and out of reality, every other moment having the tendency to completely forget the island and the other people on it, even if this conversation was centric around Jack. At the same time, the atmosphere surrounded her, its emotional demands suffocating her.

"No, you don't know!" Sawyer hissed back. People were listening, she thought. It shook her to think of how differently others must look at her now, after all of this. She didn't like it. It was too full of sympathy, too full of pity. It was like she wasn't even human but this object that was there to constantly feel sorry for.

She hadn't fully realized that she wasn't replying. The silence drew his attention away from his arguments, and Sawyer took a calm step towards her, lending out a comforting hand and opening his mouth to offer some words of assurance. She surprised him, already opening her mouth and whispering painfully:

"Go away."

----

His fingernails dug into the ground as he listened, pinned against the dirt and mud of the jungle from where he hid. The bushes blocked out his sight, but Jack still listened, seeming mesmerized by the argument he was overhearing. The fighting was dying now, but the words still rang in his mind as he recalled all that was said about him. Everything from Sawyer's jealous to Kate's...Kate's confession. Breathing heavily he had listened, forced to take her confession in quietly and set aside how he felt. The relief...

Footsteps crushed leaves nearby as they drew near, and Jack jumped slightly. Holding his breath, he listened, only exhailing in relief when he heard Sawyer and Kate's voices approaching. He began to slide out of the bushes, but the dark night suddenly flashed into brightness as he felt himself being pushed back to the ground with an oncoming pain in his head. The pain was beyond believe, like he was trying to think too much for his mind to handle. Or remember too much...Jack closed his eyes as he was realizing what was happening; letting relief sink in for the second time that night as the song came back to him.

He blinked in confusion as he woke up. He smelled something he thought was familiar but didn't recognize what it was until he looked over and noticed the cloth soaked with blood laying on a table next to the dentist chair he was laying in. That's when the pain returned. Grimacing, Jack felt his jaw. It was numb, swollen with pain. He groaned and lay back down.

He recognized where he was- he had been here before- but still he watched the man in front of him, the doctor, in interest as he cleaned a selection of medical supplies.

"Hello, Jack," the doctor said, offering him a smile.

Jack didn't reply. He simply watched, hoping to find some sort of clue as to what was going to happen to him. All he knew was that he had blacked out and woken up here to...through his foggy mind, Jack realized there had been music playing. He even recognized the artist.

"Rod Sterwart?" Jack asked, amused as he let out a painful laugh.

"Is that a problem with you?" The doctor asked, sounding slightly insulted as he continued to clean the medical supplies.

"No," Jack replied, glancing around the room. He noticed the details of the office as he did before, but this time everything seemed blury. It worried him that he wasn't seeing properly, but Jack attempted to shake it away as he continued the conversation: "Just didn't think you were the kind of people to listen to Rod Stewart."

The doctor laughed.

"Then what should we be listening to?"

Jack didn't know how to answer. He actually didn't think of the same people who were holding him and Kate and Sawyer captive as the same kind of people who sat around and listened to music. The doctor offered Jack a smile.

"Sorry he hit you," the doctor offered, "I thought they weren't supposed to hit the prisoners."

The word struck his mind with hope.

"Prisoners?" Jack asked, hoping this could give him some insight.

"You know," the doctor said, glancing towards him, "you and the girl."

His heart began to pound a little faster in excitement. None of the Others had spoken a word of Kate or Sawyer since he had woken up alone in that room.

"No," Jack's heart fell, "Juliet." The doctor glanced towards Jack again, as though concerned.

He felt sick with disapointment; and suddenly even fear struck him again. Because as he watched the doctor closely, even through his hatred, Jack realized what he was really doing: preparing for surgery. He began breathing heavily.

"What are you doing to me?" Jack demanded, fear slipping through every word.

Calmly, the doctor replied:

"I've got to replace the tooth."

The doctor turned off the sink. Jack watched, still breathing heavily, as the doctor walked towards him and turned on a light above him. He had no reason at all to believe these people wanted to help him. Though the doctor clearly wanted to gain Jack's trust, Jack wasn't ready to trust him yet. These people were holding him and the other two- and possibly more- captive. These people had been running the button experiment in the hatch. If these people had all this medical techonology, then they had been _letting_ the castaways suffer on the island for months. They could have saved Boone.

"Stop," Jack ordered. But suddenly he was feeling groggy. Had they drugged him? He watched the doctor in fear as he ignored Jack.

"It's a fairly common procedure, Jack," the doctor assured, approaching him, "I've even done it here before."

He had to get him to stop...he didn't care if the doctor did this procedure every day. Beginning to panic a little, Jack found it impossible to stay calm as he searched for an escape. At last he grabbed the doctor's arm, jerking his hand away from being able to prepare the anathesia. Struggling through grey vision and a blury mind, Jack attempted to shove the doctor away as he fought to sit up. The doctor fought against the hold and pushed Jack back into the chair, holding him down by his shoulders as he reached for the anasthesia. Though he seemed to be calm, Jack noticed him glancing towards an intercom system nearby. He tried to take the advantage and once more shove the doctor away, but the doctor pushed him back again, rougher than before. Jack was forced to stay down as the doctor held him down with one hand and prepared the anasthesia with the other.

"Sorry, Jack," the doctor said.

Jack shook as the anasthesia was forced into him and drifted into darkness as all thoughts of escape crumbled.

He shook as he lay on the ground. He could hear himself breathing heavily, rapidly, and his eyes were still wide open, gazing through the jungle around him. He looked up, then below him at the jungle below. Was it real? That was his first reaction. And his second...he had just remembered something. The sensation was so...relieving...overwhelming. This was his first insight into this era of his life.

Footsteps neared him, bringing him back into reality.

"Jack?"

His hands must have slipped when he had attempted to stand. A hand reached down, and he was helped up by Kate. Cheeks reddening a little, Jack offered her a small:

"Hey."

Sawyer glared at him angrily.

Kate smiled a little, expression still contorted into confusion. An awkward moment of silence passed between them, and Jack began to regret coming out to greet them. Sawyer only looked annoyed, but Kate's face suddenly melted into worry as she glanced down and grabbed Jack's hand.

"What happened?" She demanded, noting Jack's scrapped wrist from falling.

An embarrased smile slipped across his face.

"I just fell," he replied honestly. She frowned as though she didn't believe him; and as she brushed some of the dirt from his hands, revealing even muddier fingernails, she might have had reason not to. She looked up at him again, disaprovingly. Jack glanced towards Sawyer, who was glaring at him, warning him to keep his mouth shut. Honestly, he couldn't afford another fight tonight. And after that memory, he didn't want another fight. Suddenly Jack realized how parinoid he would become in attempting to preserve the memory gained back. Shrugging, Jack waved the issue away with a concerned: "Are you okay?"

He did mean it. As he looked down at her tear-streaked cheeks he shivered as he remembered the breakdown he witnessed.

"I'm fine," she said, looking to the ground. Jack watched her carefully, but she was cautious not to give herself away. "Are you?"

Sawyer looked irritated with the repetitive questions, but Jack answered anyway:

"Yeah," he said, a little more quickly than he would have liked. He managed to pull a false smile. "I'm fine. Great."

Kate smiled, a little awkwardly.

"That's great."

Jack nodded, embarrased now more than ever. They stood there, the awkward pause engulfing them as they glanced towards one another, waiting for someone to say something. Kate looked naturally relucant to talk, as she had only just been brought out of her breakdown. He wondered...if he had been there to help her, would the memory still have come? How many more would come?

"It's gettin' late," Sawyer announced suddenly, ending their awakward silence. Kate looked up to him, but Sawyer kept a straight, irritated face.

Jack nodded again.

"I'm gonna walk him to the hatch," Kate said quietly, taking a step towards that direction. Jack let out a dry laugh.

"I'm fine," he insisted. Maybe he was giving himself away without realizing it. One thing he did realize, though, was that he was attempting to hide the memory from Kate. Whether it was he didn't want her worrying or whatever the case was, he didn't want her to know. He didn't even know if the memory was real.

Kate was looking at Jack now, either concerned or desperate, he couldn't tell. He couldn't really see her coming to him so soon after she'd admitted her confession to herself, but then again, for the past nine months, he hadn't known her. Sawyer must have caught this too; he was already ushering Kate away. She only managed a quiet:

"Good night."

before she was gone again.

----

He grew to appreciate the silence of the hatch. Staying at the beach, he knew, would have been too much pressure. Just walking there in the morning earned him curious looks and obvious hope that he would either mention something about his disapearance or just keep walking. No one wanted to be around the hatch. Whatever happened down here, it had scared people away. He did wonder sometimes if he was truly safe down here, but if it had been nine months...

Warm water washed over his hands as he soaked another dish in the sink. No one asked him to, but Jack took the liberty of taking up the dish washing duties. It didn't actually take his mind off things, but it gave him a chance to think. He was relieved with how clear the memory still was in his mind...like it wasn't something he had had to gain back. He was even afraid of falling asleep for fear of losing the memory. But what he was thinking about wasn't necessarily about the memory...what triggered it? What was he doing, thinking, at that moment that made the memory- and that particular memory- come? There was the song, of course. There had been a radio in the memory...maybe if he began to listen to music more...

"Jack?"

He turned his head. Sun was standing at the door with her baby. She looked more tired, more exhausted, than he had ever seen her.

"I know it's only been a week," she began. There was a hint of reluctance in her voice. "But I was wondering if...maybe you can watch him tonight?"

He didn't have the heart to disagree. He even felt guilty for not paying more attention to Sun, Jin, and their baby. He was, after all, the doctor(not that he didn't care anyway).

"Yeah," he agreed, "sure."

It was even a good excuse not to fall asleep.

----

"I bet you don't like Rod Stewart," Jack said to the baby who couldn't answer him, taking the familiar ablum out and replacing it with some British band Charlie had been listening to. "But unfortuently I couldn't find any Korean music." It was a lie, but he was too preoccupied to notice. The baby, sitting safely on one of the large chairs, watched as Jack sat down next to him and turned the volume down low. He assumed if the song came from a radio then the station would be playing other simular genres of music...and other music by Rod Stewart.

As soon as the music began playing he felt an odd sense of relief rushing through him. He felt _safe_ somehow. He relaxed, only feeling half conscience of doing so. He looked over to the baby, who was laying on the seat next to him. The baby smiled at him, and he couldn't help but to smile back. It was crazy, he thought, they really were starting a civilization. Or rather, it had started without him. But the baby truly was beautiful, and surprisingly well behaved. He wondered...Aaron had been raised on the beach, in the middle of all the fear and trauma. He would cry at night, non-stop, like he felt that fear. But Sun and Jin's baby was living in the hatch. He stayed quiet at night, hardly made a sound. Was there truly nothing to fear down here? Could this become the hide out they hoped it would be when they first found it? Maybe without the button, there was no real threat to the hatch. Except for himself...

Jack's expression hardened. What if they were still looking for him? What if he had escaped, and he was putting them all in danger by being here? What if something was really wrong with him and he didn't know it? There was too much to consider. Jack kept watching the baby, who was still smiling. He didn't know of the dangers the island possessed. He didn't know of the troubles each one of them had, the burden of a past each castaway carried.

For only a moment, Jack let himself close his eyes. Yes, there was too much to think about. But this was what he asked for, wasn't it? He wanted these memories. Maybe he even wanted to hear that confession from Kate. There was nothing to complain about. All he had to do was to sit back and let the future come...

_He fell on the ground- hard. His head hit the wall and his arm fell behind him. The pain was...unbarable._

_"Jack!"_

_Someone knelt down beside him. They were trying to shake him out of darkness but the pain...the pain was unbarable. He let himself drift away...drift away. His eyes closed._

Jack's eyes snapped open. His heart beat rapidly. He breathed heavily. The first thing he looked for was the baby. He was asleep across from him. Jack sighed with relief. How long had he been out? Surely no more than a few minutes...

"Jack!"

His heart lept in surprise. He was still breathing heavily as he answered:

"We're in here!"

Sun rushed in. Jack felt hardly aware of what was happening as Sun scooped up her child. Jack watched her, feeling in shock. Tears of relief streaming down her face, Sun held her son close as she rocked him in his sleep.

"We were fine," Jack told her. He didn't know if he was lying or not.

"I know," Sun said with a smile. "I just...needed him."

Jin came in next. He looked from the baby to Jack. Jack offered him an awkward smile. Jin didn't smile back. He said something to Sun in Korean, but she shook her head, eyes closed as she held back tears. Jack felt out of place in the moment as Jin desperately tried to consult his wife. He stood up.

"Do you still need me?" He asked Jin, not sure if he would understand him.

Sun shook her head. Assuming that was his answer, Jack left the room. The record player had already turned itself off.

----

He stayed awake on the shore as Kate slept nearby. Sawyer watched the fire burning between them as the silent night swam around them. They were a good distance away from everyone else- it was their reminder of how apart from everyone they had become over the past few months. At first Sawyer had been a part of every search and rescue mission, dealt with every failure just as everyone else did, and was part of the scheming for their next plan. Then as the weeks grew into months and months threatened to become a year, he and Kate gradually separated themselves from everyone- out of guilt, out of hatred.

And now none of it mattered. Jack was back without any of their plans succeeding. Things were trying to slip back to normal with hardly any transition. Everyone wanted things to go back to normal. And he did too...but he didn't think the past nine months should be forgotten. As much as the trauma had hurt them it had brought them- all of them- together. Now it seemed like a simple search and rescue mission. Jack didn't see it, he was hiding in the hatch. He hadn't been there during those months. No one wanted to talk about it. No one wanted to talk about their fears or the things they said...not even to Jack. Things were just slipping back to normal, like it could all be forgotten.

One would think that the quiet atmosphere of the beach would make one forget about the jungle behind them. But with the threat of the Others, it was never forgotten- and neither was the idea that the Others had a boat. Subconsciously one would always stand sideways, as to not miss a beat from either direction. Especially after Kate was attacked so long ago, a close eye was kept on the island and the ocean around them. And now, all that preparation was paying off. Sawyer's hands fell around the gun in his back pocket as the bushes shook in front of him.

His mind raced as he stood. He glanced towards Kate; she was still asleep. He raised his gun. The person drew nearer. His heart raced.

And Michael fell onto the beach.

Michael raised a free hand. The other was supporting a sleeping Walt on his back. He was sweating profoundly. He looked dehyrdated, exhausted. Sawyer couldn't decide what he wanted to do. Part of him wanted to put a bullet through Michale's heart right then and there. But Walt was right there...

"Please!" Michael said, gasping for breath. "I need your help."

----

Alex was shaken awake by the sound of a door open. The cell bars in front of her greeted her back to reality, but she had time to think before Alexander walked through the door, strugging with a keyring full of keys...the key to escape. Alex stood as he opened her cell door.

----

The doctor was waiting for them as they entered the room. It was only the three of them in the room. No guards. There were never guards.

It was dark; the lights were dim. They weren't as bright as she was used to them being.

"Dr. Campbell," Alexander- or Zander, as most, at least Tom, liked to call him- greeted.

"Zarek," Dr. Campbell nodded. It was Alexander's last name.

"The man of many names," Alex muttered under her breath. It said something about your position, what you called him. Those closest to him, such as Tom, felt confident enough to call him Zander, and Zander didn't mind. Those who looked at him as more of an aquaintance, a co-worker, called him Zarek, and he didn't mind that either. Alex called him Alexander. He liked to mock that.

Dr. Campbell smiled.

"The man of many friends," he defended. Alex rolled her eyes, and Alexander let out a dry laugh.

Then as soon as it came, the humor died. Out of what seemed like no where Alexander pulled up a chair, but then she realized it had been waiting for him. He sat in it, the chair seated backwards, and rested his arms over the back of the chair. A moment passed as he thought, as though she and the doctor should be holding a respected moment of silence silence for him.

"Any word from Jack?" The doctor asked, breaking the silence.

Alexander shook his head. He looked heartbroken, as though Jack were some missing puppy and not a prisoner.

"He'll come back," Dr. Campbell assured. Alexander shook his head again, standing up. He slid the chair away, thrusting it away with a hand.

"No he won't," Alexander said, frustrated.

"Why do you think that?" Dr. Campbell asked, curious.

Alexander watched the two banter, amused. Wasn't it obvious? She didn't understand why Alexander was so surprised that Jack was gone or why Jack would want to go.

"Why would he want to come back?" Alexander wondered outloud.

Precisely.

He turned to Alex.

"What are you thinking?" He inquired. It wasn't demanding but true curiosity. Alex blinked and took a step forward.

"I think that if someone can't learn to trust someone after nine months, then maybe that person's not worth trusting," Alex replied honestly. She took a deep breath. This was her chance. She'd been locked up for the past week and now she was able to speak her mind. "I think that you never really gave him reason-"

"I gave him a reason," Alexander interrupted, anger escaping him through gritted teeth.

"Reason to believe that this was the right thing," Alex finished, ignoring the comment. "And you never gave him much hope or choice of anything."

Alexander stared at her, and for a moment she was sure he'd lecture her; yell at her. Of course this was the right thing. Of course he was right- how could he be wrong? Nothing she was saying made sense, and then he would provide some twisted proof to back that statement up. But it was the doctor who spoke up next.

"I agree." Both Alex and Alexander looked at him in surprise. She'd never even considered getting Dr. Campbell to take her side. She was sure there was some deal he was getting that forced him into silence. But Alexander didn't look happy or relieved- he looked offended. "If you want him to believe this is the right thing then _torturing_ him isn't going to work."

"I did not torture him!" Alexander shouted. His voice rushed out of him in anger, his face boiled with madness.

"I'd call what he went through every day torture!" The hint of friendship between the two from just moments ago was gone. Alex watched, no longer amused, but hopeful. She waited, paying careful attention, to hear Alexander's plan.

Alexander looked between the both of them. Pure silence followed the outburst. There was no distant buzzing as could be heard in other places. Here, there was silence. It should have been peaceful, but it wasn't. It was terrifying. Alexander had complete control over this place...it was at his mercy.

"Go back to your office," Alexander instructed to the doctor. He turned to Alex. "And you...I'm coming for you in an hour."

So it was back to the cell. But his message interested her.

"Where are we going?" Alex inquired as she followed Alexander out the door.

"The Green Room," he called back over his shoulder.

She was supposed to be following him, but she just stared after him. The sunlight beamed in through the door, keeping time until a shadow appeared from behind her. She was supposed to be the most informed about this...mission. But now she was completely in the dark.

She turned to the doctor before he could say anything. Looking up to him, Alex met his eyes, pleading for any information or clue as to what was going on. Dr. Campbell just shrugged.

"Come on," he said quietly, holding onto her shoulder as he led her out.

She had almost forgotten that the doctor had permission to manage the prisoners.

----

There was a constant buzzing noise in here. She recognized it; it was how she knew she was in the same place...the same island. But the area was different. This place wasn't meant to hold prisoners, and yet there were blood stains on the wall. This place was only meant for storage. Then again, as far as she had experienced, the two were very close situations. The room was only the size of a walk-in closet: she could see it now. The shoes, the dresses. Juliet smiled. Or maybe if a family lived there, a few suits thrown in. A forgotten holiday present here, a new blouse there.

She thought back to her own room. It felt so weird to experience those memories; and they were, indeed, mere memories. There had been a picture of an ocean above her bed. How badly she yearned for a vacation...her computer table sat nearby, the machine always turned on rather for taxes or for work purposes. A picture frame sat on a bedside table. A tear fell down her cheek. The frame was empty. There had only been one picture that would fit the frame- a picture of her and her mom on a roadtrip. But Juliet had always wanted to save that frame, hoping that there would be a special occastion to use it for- a wedding, an anniversary. If only she hadn't waited.

Footsteps came from nearby, but no one came in. Already they were forgetting about her. Already they were finding some new distraction. But Jack would remember her and what she meant to him. She remembered him. All the times he cried when she was certain he had sworn to never breakdown in front of anyone. Every nightmare he admitted to having. His desperation to break free that would once turn to...helplessness. She shuddered. But no matter what, freedom was always on his mind. That was proven in the end.

Another tear fell down her cheek. Freedom was on her mind as well. And certainly he would understand, certainly he would know what that felt like. And perhaps, someday, he could even forgive her.

----

It had been at least a half of an hour. Her foot tapped compulsively on the ground as she waited. That constant hum she was accustomed to buzzed away the minutes. He'd be coming for her soon, and then maybe she'd know what was going on.

But it had only been an half hour, or so she thought, and the doorknob turned. Alex began to stand, but she froze when Pickett entered the room.

"Michael," she said, attempting to keep her voice calm. She remembered the last time he'd visited. She was sure the others weren't happy about it. "What are you doing here?"

"Did he say anything to you?" Michael asked quickly, ignoring the question. She didn't answer; she just stared at him, confused. "Zarek. Did he say anything to you?"

She snapped out of it. He knew something.

"Yeah," she nodded. Her hands wrapped around the cell bars as she spoke. "He said something about going to the Green Room."

She looked up at him, and expected him to look something of puzzled, or even concerned. She wasn't expecting him to look relieved.

"Great," he said. A spark of gratefulness ignited in his voice.

"How's that great?" She asked. She was almost on the verge of tears. What the hell was going on? Why wasn't she being told anything?

"He's going to ask you something," Michael explained, "and you've got to agree to do it."

A sickening pit of worry formed in her stomach.

"Why?" She asked him. "What's going on?"

"You've got to trust me," Michael said. He looked down at her, smiling. He was truly happy. "It's going to be okay."

She couldn't match his happiness. She couldn't even trust his relief. There was some big scheme going on here that even she didn't know about but was obviously a part of. It scared her.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" She inquired.

He smiled.

"It means we're getting out of here."

----

The baby was still quiet; there wasn't even a sign there was anyone else in the hatch. After leaving Sun and Jin, Jack had gone to his bunk. He didn't want to fall asleep, but he assumed this was a sign that he needed to think. He needed to piece it all together. And not to mention there was still Kate's confession that would constantly pop into mind. But how could he ever talk to her like this? Desperation was overwhelming him. He needed answers. He needed answers that he could keep. He still was afraid of falling asleep...

But it was too late. Within moments of sitting down, sleep had taken over, and Jack was left, as he lay there sleeping, to wait for whatever his dreams would bring.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	10. Failsafe

Life Interrupted

Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten:** Failsafe

_It was like all he knew was pain. It wasn't necessarily familiar, but at that moment, all he knew was pain. He fell to the floor, weary eyes fighting to glare up at the man who had punched him. That man was Tom- or at least that's what they called him._

_"Jack!"_

_Henry Gale knelt down beside him. His expression was truly of concern, from what Jack could see- his vision was already blury. His mind felt groggy, his limbs felt numb. His head hurt from where it had hit the wall and his mouth...he couldn't even comprehend screaming. Screaming wasn't a possibility right now. Instead his body did all the screaming for him, shouting out in pain. A stinging, cold pain. _

_Henry looked up to Tom._

_"Get him to the doctor!" He ordered. His hand supported Jack's head in efforts to keep him from falling, but Jack didn't think to feel grateful. He couldn't feel much of anything at the moment, except for pain._

_"He is a doctor," Tom shot back, messaging a hand like his jammed finger should be the priority of injuries in an emergancy room. "He can take care of himself."_

_Already Henry was lifting him up, and the further foward his feet were pushed, the further Jack felt himself fall into darkness. He didn't and didn't want to at the same time. It would be the sweet relief that was probably essential for his body, at the moment; forced sleep and silence of the mind. But he didn't want to be an excuse for a test subject...if that's what they were looking for._

_Of course, he wasn't really thinking these thoughts at the moment. He was only thinking of them through his dream- nightmare- as he watched himself struggle through misery. These must thoughts must have been in mind then, he thought at first, but then he realized- he was in complete shock then. He wanted to wake up, but at the same time he knew he had to keep watching if he wanted his memory back. So he watched, not phsyically, but as though he were simply a third eye in the room, as the past form of himself fell into unconsciousness. He would know nothing more of that scene._

----

_Next he saw himself laying on a grey-tinted floor. This time he drifted between being the third eye and being himself. He was the third eye watching himself lie on the floor, helpless; and then he was himself as his eyes swelled with tears, and as he desperately wanted nothing more than the relief of a breakdown. But as quick as it came he was the eye again, and he realized someone else one in the room. It was a girl, a young woman, cowarded against the far wall. Knees drawn to her chest she hugged herself as blonde hair fell past her eyes. She was crying._

----

_He knew no more and the scene switched. Now he was sitting up. He was in a chair of some sort, but he couldn't see what kind. He was himself again, seeing through the eye of someone terrified, and someone trying to hide that terror. _

_"I need you to remember, Jack."_

_It was Henry's voice again; and then the man appeared in front of him. In his dream, Jack realized his hands weren't chained or tied to the chair. He was free to make whatever escape effort he wanted, and he didn't know why it had taken him so long to realize this. He threw a foot forward, and his shoe landed in the middle of Henry's chest. Henry stumbled back, but regained strength just as Jack scrambled out of the chair- of which kind he still could not tell._

_But in moments he was shoved to the floor by a girl. In his dream, the part of him who suddenly appeared as the third eye again hoped that, in some crazy way, this girl could be Kate. But it wasn't, and the girl pinned him to the ground with a foot as she effortlessly tied his hands. For some reason of which his third eye could not see, he did not fight back._

----

That's what he woke up to. The lights were off; someone had already readied the hatch for the night. It was quiet too. If he were a writer this would have been Heaven. But he wasn't a writer; he was just a person trying to regain memory. He had puzzles to piece together and a life to learn about. Though the quiet hatch was a place to think, Jack now only wished to be able to fall back asleep. He had no fear now- he realized he still remembered his previous memory. And now he had the prequel.

It was some time before he finally got up. Giving up on falling asleep, Jack decided that his mind was playing tricks on him. There would only be certain times when his memory would come back, and he would never know when those times would be. Taking in this realization, Jack stood up. He had learned the hard way a few days ago to be conscious enough when he awoke to avoid hitting his head on the bunk above him. He wandered who had slept there before him- Desmond was alone when they found him. But he had never asked.

As far as he knew, it had been hours before someone had checked on Juliet. Walking away from the bunkbeds, Jack headed that way, finding it highly coincidently that at the same time he was remembering things it was his turn to check on Juliet. He was still hiding his new memories from Kate, but he knew he'd feel guilty for telling someone else before her. He'd given her his trust and promised not to lie to her. Sure, she had kept their brief reunion a secret, but he didn't feel as low as to hide from her for the sake of revenge.

----

A bottle of water was in one hand and a bowl of cereal in the other. Juliet was awake when he entered, but she didn't say anything until he sat the food down.

"It's quiet," she commented, "no one's been by."

For a moment a wave of dejavu hit him as he remembered Henry Gale as a captive. After a while, he'd become observant about what went on around the hatch and the people who stayed there. Of course, this was one piece of information that could be misinterpretated from being locked up in a room.

"It's late," he explained, "everyone's asleep."

She smirked.

"Not you."

Jack chuckled at the comment and shook his head.

"Not me," he agreed.

His laughter soon faded. Juliet eyed the cereal but made no move to eat it. Instead she glanced back up to him. He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and shuddered as he remembered seeing her in his dream, crying(he assumed) at the site of seeing him sprawled about on the floor, helplessly laying there and waiting for the tears to come. Jack swallowed.

"Do you remember-" he stopped; of course she'd remember. She wasn't the one with the missing memory...and he couldn't help but to feel jealous about that. Why him and not her? Not that he'd wish this on anyone. "Do you know anything about some kind of doctor's office? Here, on the island?"

He had been staring at the floor as he worked on his question, but he looked up to her now. She stared back at him, as though wondering if she should tell him. At last she did.

"They took you there everyday," she whispered.

His mind swirld as he considered her answer. He stared at her, his mouth had fallen open with realization. There was no pain in his jaw as there had been in the dream.

"And not you?" He asked. She shook her head and chose to continue the story.

"I'd only go there sometimes," she explained, "a few times a week. I think you ate there too. When they brought me food they never brought you any, and I would ask if you were hungry. You'd always say no."

Neither of them mentioned that there were pleanty of other reasons he could have not been hungry. Jack just stayed quiet, taking this information in.

"Why?" She asked.

He looked to her, holding his breath, and thought of all the possibile lies out of this.

"No reason," he said at last. He offered her a small smile and walked towards the door.

"Are you remembering things?" She asked just before his hand could reach the door.

He hardly let himself hesitate before replying:

"No."

And he walked out. Closed the door. And leaned against it. Hand still rested on the doorhandle, Jack closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. And then he did the worst thing he could of done then- he made a promise he wouldn't tell any one else.

----

"Thanks," Michael said as Sawyer handed him a bottle of water.

Sawyer didn't show any sign of gratefulness for the thought. His face remained as serious, as furious, as ever.

"I'm only doing this because your kid's here," Sawyer told him.

Michael glanced over to Walt, who was still sleeping. A warm fire and a spare blanket protected him from the cool night's air; but Sawyer wasn't ready to offer him any more kindness than that.

"If it were different I would have put a bullet through you right then and there," he added. His cold tone didn't change. It was the only two senteces he had said to his old...friend. If he could even call Michael a friend back then.

"Look man, I understand-"

"You killed two of us," Sawyer shot, the flames of anger in his eyes contrasting the comfort of the fire nearby.

"I know," Michael said, slightly rushed to assure he'd get his word out. Sawyer let him talked, mostly in curiosity as to what possible excuse Michale had. "But I had to do what I could to get my kid back!"

Sawyer didn't answer him. There were other ways they could have gotten Walt.

"I'm sorry about Ana and Libby-" Sawyer's eyes diverted quickly to him, glaring at the sound of the shortened name of Ana-Lucia. Like she and Michael had been friends. He didn't blame Michael if he hated Ana-Lucia- she had held then captive in an underground pit- but he'd murdered her in order to let Henry Gale escape. He'd murdered Libby, who had obviously felt guilty about the captivity.

But the most horrific part of it all was that the Others had stayed true to their word. Michael had gotten Walt back, and he had gotten a chance for rescue. So why the hell was he here now?

"What the hell do you want?" Sawyer declared, echoing is thoughts.

Michael once again glanced towards Walt, as though checking to see if he were listening. Then he looked around the camp- and must have noticed Kate sleeping nearby.

"Is that Kate?" Michael asked, looking behind Sawyer to Kate's sleeping form.

"Yeah," Sawyer replied dryly.

"Congrats, man," Michael snorted. Sawyer wasn't amused.

"Don't get too excited," Sawyer said, "good 'ole Jack's still got a place in her heart." He didn't let Michael ask anymore questions. "What the hell do you want?"

First glancing between Kate and Walt, Michael leaned closer towards Sawyer and brought his voice down to a whisper.

"I found a failsafe."

Sawyer stared a him.

"A what?"

"A failsafe," Michael said. He began to get excited as he spoke. "You know, like-"

"I know what a failsafe is!" Sawyer hissed.

After a few weeks of silence about the incident, Locke and Desmond confessed to the whole button ordeal. Rather out of guilty conscience regarding Jack or everyone in general, they could then at least sleep better at night knowing there were worse things on the castaway's minds by then. Of course, Sawyer had known what a failsafe was before then.

"It's on the other side of the island," Michael went, waving his hands needlessly as he talked, "Walt and I found it-'

"Get to the point," Sawyer shot.

Michael stared at him, as though offended. Sawyer stared back, still not amused, eyes still cold with anger. Maybe Michael didn't realize just how angry the camp was at him. He was in for a surprise, then.

"I think it shuts it down," Michael explained.

"Shuts what down?" Sawyer asked. He didn't exactly see what Michael was so excited about. All the last failsafe did was knock out the hatch computer and leave an irritating vacant buzz in everyone's ear. Sure, getting rid of the computer meant no more button-pushing, but God only knew what it did to the air around them.

"Dharma!" Michael exclaimed. "The whole island, it-"

"Would you be quiet?" Sawyer snapped, glancing around at not only Kate but towards the direction of everyone else as well. He knew some people who wouldn't be as willingly to, well, not kill Michael. "What the hell are you saying?"

"We've got to pull it."

A dark silence followed. Michael's excitment lingered in the air as a reminder of his plan. It didn't make sense. Michael was wanting to destroy the people who had set him free from the island. Then again, those same people had kept him there. Those same people had kidnapped them, and Claire before then. They'd left Charlie hanging for dead and had kept Jack for nine months. The plan was almost...genius. But there were a few plot holes.

"Why do you want my help?" Sawyer inquired. Question number one.

"You don't want revenge?" Michael responded in surprise. "You don't want to destroy those people?"

"Yeah, I do," Sawyer admitted forcefully, "but why the hell couldn't you have done this by yourself? Who knows, it might have earned you some points around here."

Michael bit his lip, like he was a child ashamed of their wrong-doing. He glanced again at Walt.

"Whatever happens out there..." Michael shook his head, and even through the darkness Sawyer noticed his eyes beginning to water. "And whatever happens afterwards...I don't know if I can take it." He struggled to hold back tears, choking on his words. "I need help. I need to make sure my boy's safe. I'll pull the failsafe, I've just..." He stopped struggling and looked Sawyer in the eye. "I've got to do this man, I've got to this for my son."

He found himself actually considering this. What if he did it? What if he shut down the island? Hell if that wouldn't win Kate's heart, what would? But the idea was still crazy...at least on Michael's reasoning.

"What your son needs is for you to be there for him," Sawyer pointed out, "not for you to be off risking your life on some insane revenge plot!" Michael didn't answer him; he looked furious. "Let me pull the failsafe."

"No!" Michael hissed. "I'm going to do it, I just need your help!"

Before Sawyer could protest once again, Walt shifted in his sleep from nearby. Both of their heads snapped in his direction, but Walt did not wake. The interruption still scared their conversation away.

"I'll pull the failsafe," Sawyer declared. Sighing, he reached behind him for some water to put the fire out with. "Just sleep on the idea."

Michael's face illuminated in hope.

"You'll let me stay?"

"Yeah," Sawyer sighed again. "Just stay in the tent. If you being back don't scare everyone you're damn beard will."

Even Michael laughed at this.

"Thanks man," he said, "I appreciate this, really."

"Whatever," Sawyer muttered.

As he lay down he watched the fire dim back to its original pile of wood, only now it was rusted away. He considered the position of risk he was putting himself in, both with helping Michael and agreeing with the failsafe idea. He really thought about it. But if Dharma was gone, would anyone care if Michael was back?

What he really feared though, was the truth: pulling the failsafe didn't necessarily mean that the Others would be gone. And the one thing to fear was most likely Michael's biggest concern, the reason he'd come all the way to this side of the island instead of just pulling the failsafe when he found it: how would _they_ react?

----

_It was called the Green Room because of the hand-drawn tree on the far wall. She had drawn it. Well, with much help from Pickett. She had been six, and wasn't very good artistically. Or with writing. They drew it on the spur of the moment while Alexander sat behind them, not watching them closely, but deep in thought. He always was that way._

_"But why can't the tree be orange?" Alex protested._

_Pickett laughed._

_"Because trees are green."_

_He never did get frustrated with her useless questions or confusion. She supposed it was why she liked him the best._

_"But I want it to be orange!" Alex pouted. She remembered taking a liking to the color every since she was told she looked pretty in this one orange blouse she had as a kid. _

_"Maybe when you're older you can have an island of your own where the trees are orange," Pickett grinned at the thought, "ain't that right, Zerek."_

_She turned towards Alexander, who snapped out of his thoughts long enough to reply:_

_"Sure."_

_Alex smiled, but soon her face fell. Except for when it came to wanting to color trees orange or wishing the grass could be pink, Alex was quick about realizing reality._

_"Where are the other islands?" She asked, looking up to Pickett. He only glanced towards Alexander, looking worried. But Alexander simply stood up, scooting the chair away as he did._

_"They're not around here," he replied. He then leaned in towards Pickett and whispered: "You're not coloring inside the lines." _

_With a laugh Alexander left the room. Pickett looked puzzled by this realization, but Alex only grinned and continued to color in the tree, still wishing it could be orange._

She looked around the room fearfully as she was ushered inside. Michael Pickett was in there, as well as the doctor. Otherwise the room was empty. The Green Room's name also stood true in the sense that it was a like a waiting room: there was a small kitchen against a far wall, some tables and chairs, and an old television that had never worked. As a kid she wondered if the rest of them could see something inside that weird-looking screen that she couldn't. This was the room they would form their plans in. This was the room where Alexander would sit and think for hours, and he wouldn't answer to anyone until he came up with the solution to his newest problem. The tree still decorated the far wall, including the traces of evidence that Michael wasn't the best artist around. There actually was a man named Mr. Pearson who was a fantastic artist, but he didn't have nearly enough of a sense of humor to spend his time decorating walls.

Now there was a chair in the middle of the room. The lights were dim here too, like they were trying to hide their presense. She wondered what excuse Alexander gave to keep the others away.

"Have a seat," Alexander declared, waving a hand towards the center of the room.

"I'm fine," she said. Sitting would make herself inferior to them. And she was not inferior to them. She was one of them, though she had funny ways of showing and admitting this.

"I don't think that was an offer," Dr. Campbell defended from across the room. She glared at him, her eyes angry with the hypocrital doctor who really didn't seem to know what the true meaning of saving someone was. Saving someone did not mean keeping them locked up in a cell.

Nevertheless she did sit, only after glancing towards Michael, who nodded in agreement. She stared at him as she walked to the center of the room to sit down, everyone's eyes following her. Once seated she looked to each of them, and they all knew the question she was going to ask. They more than likely heard it from all of their prisoners every day:

"Why am I here?"

Now she looked directly at Alexander. The one she knew was responsible for this.

"A week ago we sent Juliet out to bring Jack back," Alexander began. He started to pace the room. "She hasn't come back."

Sometimes she found it hard to believe that anyone could be so stubborn, so oblivious of reality. But she didn't interrupt. She wanted to know what was going on without him getting angry at her for being disrespectful or impatient. Even though she had every right to be both disrespectful and impatient.

"And if she doesn't come back in two days," he continued and stopped walking, "we're going to send you after him."

Her eyes widened and she looked at Michael. But Alexander hardly gave her time to ask questions.

"We're going to send you out," he repeated, "and if you're successful then you're free."

"'Free'?" She inquired. 'Free' could mean so many things here.

"You'll be free," Alexander said. He smiled. "You know the rules here. You do this for me, and you don't have to stay here anymore."

"What does that mean?" She turned to Michael, searching his eyes desperately for an answer.

"It means we can leave," Michael replied. He was keeping calm now, but she remembered his excitment from eariler.

"Leave?" She said, a hint of fear escaping through the one word she had never even considered. Leave? But where would she go? Where was there to go?

"Think about it," Alexander said.

But Alex hardly heard him. Her mind was swirling with this opportunity being presented to her, so much so that she forgot the original task at hand.

"Is he coming with me?" She said, looking from Michael and Alexander.

The two men glanced towards each other. Alexander even looked annoyed, as though this was something they had faught over many times.

"Yes," Michael said. He diverted his eyes towards her. "Yes, I'm coming with you."

Alexander smiled grimly.

"Like I said," he said as he walked over and took Alex by the arm, "think hard." He lifted her out of the seat but let go once she was standing.

"I'm going back to that room," she said, coldly making her observations clear.

Alexander glances to Michael, who was glaring at him, hatred trailing a line from himself to them.

"No," Alexander said.

The doctor opened the door and Alexander stepped out, Dr. Campbell following. She and Michael remained, staring at each other.

"We're leaving?" She whispered, the thought still ringing in disbelief to her ears. Subconsciously, they each glanced over to the tree on the wall, the one they had drawn together.

"We'll be fine," Michael assured. He walked towards her, putting a supportive arm around her as he led her out the door, "I promise."

But suddenly Alex was feeling sick. As they walked out she glanced behind him, taking in every detail of the room, like she was afraid it was the last time she'd see it.

And that's when she realized: she was afraid it'd be the last time she'd see it.

----

He was contemplating going back to sleep; part of him was desperate for the next chapter of his story, while the other feared it. There was something different about him. Why didn't they come back for Kate and Sawyer? They seemed satisfied with having Jack as their only captive- from the castaways, at least. Even with Claire they never came back. He was there for nine months. There was some doctor he went to see every day. Juliet hardly ever did. Kate never mentioned him.

What was so different about him?

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Jack asked himself the question as he done again and again that morning. Staring at the now-empty bottle of water in his hands, sitting alone in the kitchen of the hatch, Jack wondered what set him apart from the rest of the world. There were other great doctors out there. Surely that wasn't it. And besides, if the Others were that desperate for a doctor, couldn't they just get one from the outside world? Unless having one of the island was just a grateful convience. But for nine months? He supposed it was possible, but...he rubbed his eyes again. As he brought his hand away from his face, Jack caught glimpse of some of the scars on his arms. A jacket was near by, were someone to come in- he still didn't want everyone worrying about him- but now the scars stood out on his arms like cracks in a wall. If they wanted him to help, why hurt him? But he knew the answer to that right away...if he had refused...Jack shuddered. And swallowed. His throat was dry.

He stood up and walked over to the sink. Jack turned the water on and frowned. The water pressure was low...too low. He waited a few moments and turned the water off when there was no changed. Sighing, he walked back over to the table and picked up the jacket. He'd have to go to the caves.

On the way out he picked up an extra bottle for Juliet.

"Heading out?" Locke asked. He was reading a book on the couch.

"Water pressure's low," Jack explained, pulling on the jacket.

"It's hot out," Locke warned him.

"I'm cold," Jack defended quickly. Locke raised an eyebrow, but he didn't ask.

He exited the hatch and sighed with relief when he was able to step out into the jungle without another interruption. Bliding sunlight welcomed him, beaming down through the trees. Jack looked up to the sky, squinting as the bright sunrays met his eyes. Green and blue dots sprinkled his vision when he quickly diverted his eyes to the ground, and Jack immediately continued walking forward, almost running, as though fleeing from the sun. This was what he had become. Some kind of creature that prayed on the dark and silence.

----

The caves were even worse than the jungle. He felt like a freshmen on the first day of high school. People swamred the halls, staring at him, daring him to interefere with their lives...their _coolness_. They rushed passed them, running on a familiar schedule he'd yet to get used to. And even though he was mixed in with people he had known for some time, it seemed like he couldn't find anyone he knew. It was suffocating; hell, it was almost embarrasing.

But he tried not to dwell on it. Tearing his eyes away from the life around him, Jack turned back to the waterfall. Knealing down, he let the water bottles fill up, hoping no one would try and talk to him.

"Hey, Jack."

Without realizing it he cringed at Claire's perky voice. Truthfully despite his wish to be alone, it wasn't because she spoke to him but because he knew what she would ask about.

"Hey, Claire," Jack replied, recovering as he stood.

When he turned around he realized Claire wasn't alone. A little boy he didn't even recognize stood beside her. And he was really standing, though clutching bravely to Claire's hand.

"This is Aaron?" Jack said, smiling in astonishment at the boy's growth.

Claire grinned.

"Yes."

"He's probably terrified of me," Jack said with a laugh; but the little boy only grinned as he held on tightly to his mothers hand. While the grip was of caution and fear, Jack could have sworn were to anyone try and harm Claire at that moment, Aaron's grip on her hand would have protected her. He offered the boy a smile. Aaron smiled back.

"_Sawyer_ doesn't scare him," Claire pointed out, "I think he'll be okay."

Jack's smile lingered a moment before fading away, and a sudden akwardness of the confrontation sank in. He waited, letting her decided when to ask. Now was when he decided if he wanted to answer.

"Have you remembered anything else?" Claire finally asked.

Jack looked around him, eyeing everyone in the caves and seeing their lives.

"No," Jack lied, and confirmed calmly, "no, I haven't,"

It wasn't fair that he was lying to these people who had gone through so much without him. But he had gone through so much without them as well. He was seeing that now, and he didn't even know the whole story yet.

Claire studied him, obviously suspicious. But she didn't question him.

"Okay," she said with a smile. And she obviously was not okay with it. She swallowed; Jack knew that if she was being truthful in keeping her promise of not telling Kate, than this was torturing her conscience. Now he was lying to her. "But if you do need me, just come find me. Okay?"

Fighting to keep a calm, collect, face, Jack nodded. She smiled again.

"See you around, then," she said. She looked uncertain as she turned, walking away with Aaron's protective grip still keeping herself together.

He waited until she was safely out of sight, lost in the crowds of the caves, and breathed a sigh of relief.

----

Jack winced as the armory door creaked open. It was still early, and it seemed like no matter how much he slept he was never rested. At this point, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Just sit around and remember things?

"Hi," Juliet greeeted softly, accepting the water he gave her. Jack only nodded. After taking a swallow of the water, she looked up to him and commented: "You look sick."

"Thanks," Jack snorted.

She offered him a smile. Leaning back against one of the cabinets, Jack attempted to let himself relaxed. He wondered, as he would every time he entered the armory, what he should tell her. But that only made him feel more uncomfortable as he thought about the dreams: she had cried as he lay there, assumingly...sick? Exhausted? Hurt? Jack swallowed. That was why he should be talking to her.

"You really don't remember?" Juliet spoke up.

Jack shook his head.

"No."

She scotted back towards the wall, bringing her knees to her chest. She looked afraid. She had been hoping this wasn't true.

"Nothing?" She asked, voice breaking in disbelief.

Taking in a deep breath, Jack shook his head. He didn't know exactly _what_ he should be telling her...instead he realized he had another problem. She wasn't the enemy. If he wanted to trust that these dreams truly were memories, then he knew that she wasn't the enemy. How was it fair, then, that he was keeping her locked up in here? He had no right to feel sorry or hate the Others when he was doing exactly what they did. He realized, then, that he'd have to tell. But at the same time it wasn't fair that that had to happen when he didn't want it to- or wasn't ready for it to.

"They know they changed you."

Jack looked up to Juliet.

"Changed me?" He inquired. But every answer Juliet would give would come to make sense.

"Your personality," she explained, "how you look at people. They know they're winning."

"'Winning'?" Jack said with a dry laugh and shook his head, "how the hell do you know they're winning if you don't even know what they wanted?"

"It's obvious," Juliet said, looking at him with a fixed determination, "even when you escaped they knew they'd still have power over you."

Jack laughed again, finding it almost amusing that this women he hardly remembered could find herself in position to judge him.

"They don't have power over me," Jack said.

This time Juliet laughed; a low, amused chuckle escaping her like a cruel shrill of triumph.

"Then why am I here?" She challeneged.

"We were always-"

"No," Juliet proclaimed. Her eyes twinkled knowingly. "You're still afraid of them."

"Of course I-" Jack stopped, realizing he was yelling. Calming himself down, Jack went on: "yeah, I'm afraid. They kept me for nine months. My memory's gone. I have no idea what happened to me!"

"Then find out."

"I don't even know where they are!" Jack snapped.

But Juliet only smiled.

"I do."

Jack looked to her, and he realized what this was about.

"They kept _us_ for nine months," she said, grinning with anticipation, "and me for more. We're on the same side."

She paused to let him take this in and look at everything from a different point of view. If she was telling him the truth and if the memories really were memories, then they were in the perfect position to fight back. Maybe the other castaways had some kind of lead that they assumed could know longer work, but Juliet could help them with that. She could remember what he couldn't- most of it- and he...he could find out every answer he ever wanted about the island. If this worked.

But as Jack looked around the empty shelves of the armory that didn't even belong to them, his dreams were crushed. This wasn't their island. There was no way Juliet could know more about it than the Others did. They had every advantage the castaways could only dream about having. Surely they were low on weapons by now. And as plausible as it would be and as much motivation they had to fight against the Others, the truth was that a good percentage of the castaway population was probably terrified of them.

"Look," Jack began, "even if we could do this, there are too many risks. We don't have the weapons. We don't have the knowledge-"

"You have me," Juliet pointed out, grinning. "This is your chance. As long as They're out there, your people aren't safe."

He knew this was true. But he wasn't going to let another incident like what happened with Henry happen again.

"Like I said," Jack spoke up, "it's not as easy as you think."

He turned to leave. She would only try again to change his mind, and again he would have to turn the most plausible solution down.

"When I'm I gonna get out of here?"

The question wasn't filled with anticipation and excitement like her other speeches. Her voice dropped, her tone softened. When he turned she looked frightened again; worried.

"I don't know," he sighed honestly.

"We're on the same side," Juliet urged, "please...I swear I'm not the enemy."

Looking away, Jack hesitated. He would have liked to believe her. It would do anything but hurt them to know they had an ally. But lately he was finding trust harder and more difficult to deal with. He wasn't going to let history repeat himself.

"I'll talk to Locke and Sayid," Jack promised. Eventually he would have to...but he knew exactly what they'd say. The only way they'd know if she's telling the truth would be for Jack to remember it.

"Since when is leadership a group effort?" Juliet challenged.

'Group effort' was a funny way of putting it. From what he remembered, neither himself, Locke, nor Sayid could ever agree on a single issue. And so far, he hadn't done anything to attempt to fall back into a leader position. He supposed they only felt sorry for him; they felt obligated to include him.

Nevertheless, he knew the answer:

"Since They came along."

He left without another word. For all he knew, she already knew that answer.

Locke was on the couch when he entered the hatch. He wasn't reading, and Jack got the irritated impression that he had been waiting for him.

"Don't you need to talk to me?" Locke asked, mocking a clearly overhead conversation.

Jack sighed. It was like some higher force was demanding that everything should happen this fast pace. He gets his first memory, he's forced with the debate of telling someone. He has a captive that could be innocent and might have the memory to prove it. Then again, all those dreams could simply be dreams. Now he had the opportunity for war.

"Forget it," he muttered, walking into the bedroom.

"You've got to have some opinion," Locke called back to him as Jack sat down on the bed. "Feel free to talk about it.'

"I said forget it," Jack called back. He closed his eyes, attempting to take in the relief of relaxation. Juliet would have heard every word of that. What was stopping her from telling anyone everything? Jack groaned in frustration. As much as he tried to make things easier he was only making things worse.

----

_Someone held his shoulder for support until he was in the room. He tried to walk but only was able to stumble to the far wall, where he gradually lowered himself to the floor. The girl was watching him- the one the doctor called Juliet. Once he was safely on the floor, Jack's hand flew instinctively to his sore jaw. He didn't know what his new tooth looked like, all he'd done was stay in recovery for a day, once or twice being drugged to sleep and encourage to eat soft foods. Yet he felt drained. _

_"Are you okay?" A worried Juliet asked fearfully. He didn't answer- he wasn't sure he could. He wince as he tried to move his jaw; it felt as though the pain would never go away. "What did they do?" _

_He wasn't listening. Two more days had passed and he was still here. They'd still given him no word about Kate and Sawyer. He didn't know where they were, if they were okay, or even if they were alive. Jack shuddered at the thought. And when Jack had mentioned Kate to the doctor...he'd frowned like something was wrong._

_From across the room Juliet shivered, though careful to not budge from her perminate position, seated against the wall with her knees drawn to her chest. Her face was pale, streaked with hidden tears. Though the one particular shiver was audible, she rarely stopped shaking. Her voice was always unsteady; there was always an unmistakable fear in her eyes. Out of instinct once again, Jack bit his lip and grimaced at the pain. He thought again about Juliet and what he knew about her- which was nothing. He didn't know where she came from or what she knew...his mind suddenly raced in thought. Maybe it was time to introduce himself._

_"Have you seen someone?" Jack began quietly, carefully as he attempted to ignore the pain that came with every word, "a woman? With long brown hair..." he felt his eyes beginning to swell with tears as he fought for something more descriptive, "...freckles...or a guy...long hair, southern accent?" He stopped to catch his breath, but Juliet was already shaking her head._

_"I haven't seen anyone." A small whimper escaped her. He could hope for all the good news he wanted, but even as part of him expected this answer, he still felt like he'd be sick. The answer gave him some kind of horrifying forshadowing that gave him proof that something was wrong._

_----_

_"Open your eyes."_

_The commanding, yet calm, voice sparked some power within his mind to obey and Jack groaned as his eyelids fluttered open. His head was pounding. He hadn't been knocked out, but just being led to wherever the hell this was blindfolded, gagged, and with the burlap sack over his head was enough to make him nausiated._

_"Good," Henry said. Jack still hadn't heard his real name. "Just another minute and we'll be ready to go."_

_"The system's ready," someone told Henry from the side. _

_Jack glanced around, his heart racing in panic. Yet when he looked around, there looked to be nothing to be afraid of. Aside from Henry and whomever the voice was(it was young and belonged to a female), the room was empty. Not only that, but nothing but a simple chair sat in the room. Only grey walls stared back at him._

_"Where is this place?" Jack asked wearily, his voice rasp with exhaustion._

_"You don't need to worry about that," Henry said, as though this should reassure him._

_Learning that he wouldn't get an answer, Jack looked around again to try and find one. All he could see was some kind of station to the side. There was a woman there, seated in front of some kind of computer._

_"What are you doing to me?" Jack's weak voice demanded._

_"All done," Henry announced, ignoring him. When Henry stepped away his head suddenly felt lighter. He attempted to keep his eye on Henry as he walked towards the computer station. Jack watched as Henry and the young woman- who, now that Jack thought about it, couldn't be older than a teenager. His eyebrows furrowed; but what was meant as a simple notation of confusion sent waves of pain through his head. He tried to move but something pinched his face as he did. Something was hooked up to him._

_"What are you doing to me?" Jack said again. He could both feel and see his vision swerving in and out of his range of sight. His heart raced; he breathed in a rapid panic. "I'm not tied up," he announced as Jack noticed his arms were free of any binds. He curled his knuckles in hope, but any one movement only led to worse symptoms. "What's happening to me?"_

_"Just calm down, Jack." Now Henry's voice sounded like it was coming from a microphone- inside his head. _

_Jack's eyes only continued its dance of worry and fear. Soon Henry appeared in front of him, frowning. A cold hand landed on Jack's forehead, and Henry announced a moment later:_

_"He has a fever."_

_"Of course he does," the woman said._

_Henry shook his head before knealing down to Jack's level._

_"What the hell are you doing to me?" Jack demanded again. It was all he could do to keep his eyes focused on Henry._

_"I need you to do this for me, Jack," Henry explained, "that's why you're not tied up. That wouldn't help you relax, would it?"_

_"You think I'm going to help you just because I'm relaxed?" Jack shot, a crazed chuckle escaping him. His words were unsteady. Jack was certain that was going to be the only comeback he'd be able to get out._

_"No," Henry admitted, "I know that I could torture you just like Sayid did and you wouldn't have a problem with me, just like how I was."_

_Jack proved himself wrong._

_"I'm not like you," he spat. "And if you were any normal human being you wouldn't have the stupidity to torture someone you want help from."_

_Almost smiling in pride, Jack welcomed a break from having to defend himself. _

_"I'd prove you wrong," Henry said, smiling to himself. He looked up from where he had been staring at the ground and met Jack's eyes. "But like I said, that wouldn't help you."_

_With one hand holding onto one of the arms of the chair Jack was in, Henry stood up._

_"And you're health's going to need all the help it can get," he went on, "thank God for Dr. Campbell. He's the best in his field, you know."_

_"And what field's that?" Jack challenged. He'd have to stop talking soon: his chest hurt and his head was still pounding. Maybe he should mention that to this so-called brilliant doctor._

_Henry grinned._

_"Neurology."_

----

_And he thought the next scene was exactly the same as the first...him, seated against the wall, looking drained; and Juliet huddled against the far wall, shaking in looking frightened. Only this time, he had a black eye instead of a sore and bruised jaw..._

----

"I don't get it. When you're given a boat to escape an island, you don't go back to the damn island!" Sawyer snapped.

Michael glanced subconsciously towards Walt, who was asleep by his father's side.

"We were going to escape," Michael began, speaking in a low hiss as he turned back to Sawyer, "but when we got out there, all I could think about was how I was going to get over this...how my son was going to get over this. Do you have any idea what they did to him?"

Sawyer stared at him, wondering even to himself if he was going to be able to give this guy another chance- even despite desperate attempts at sympathy.

"No," Sawyer replied.

"Neither do I." Michael's eyes were wide and angry now, and he paused to let this sink in. "And then I started thinking...how am I going to get back at them?"

Sawyer shook his head.

"You've gotta be kiddin' me."

"Kidding you?" Michael exclaimed. "You think this is a joke?" He stopped himself short of his yelling, glancing once again towards his son before lowering his voice. "I've got to do this, for my son."

"You think Walt would want you to become some...criminal...for him?" Sawyer hissed.

"I'm already a murderer."

A cold glare met his eyes, offended that someone would even suggest he wasn't serious. Michael assumed Sawyer was convinced.

"The failsafe turns off everything," Michael began, "it-"

"What failsafe?"

Sawyer's hear lept as Kate stepped into the tent, without an introduction other than her confusion. She stopped when she saw Michael. Then her eyes fell to Walt. Then to Sawyer.

"What the hell's going on?" She demanded quietly.

"Just get in here," Sawyer said, glancing nervously to the opening through the flap of the tent. Still looking confused, Kate stepped in. She didn't offer any more of sign of recognition to Michael.

"What the hell's going on?" She said again to Sawyer.

"Michael's back," Sawyer replied.

Kate glanced towards Michael.

"No kidding."

Sawyer sighed.

"He needs our help," he explained, throwing in the 'our' without a thought, "but don't worry about it. I'll handle it."

"Help with what?" Kate inquired, glancing between Sawyer and Michael.

After a pause of silence, it was finally Michael who answered:

"It doesn't concern you," he replied coldly.

"Doesn't concern me?" Kate repeated, eyes narrow with anger.

"You wanna yell a little louder, Freckles?" Sawyer snapped. "I said I've got it."

"If it's going to risk your life-"

"No," Sawyer interrupted bitterly, "Michael came back here to recruit me in his army to save the world of bunnies." No one laughed at the joke. He turned back to Michael, attempting to ignore Kate. "What do you need me to do?"

Kate stared at him incredulously, obviously dying to stop him from doing whatever the hell it was he was signing up to do. Still he waited for Michael's answer.

"I just need you to watch my son," Michael explained.

Now Sawyer had reason to be angry.

"That's it?" He shot, his voice fighting to not yell. "You put yourself through hell to get that kid back, and now you're dropping him off with me?"

"I can't take him back out there!" Michael exclaimed. "He needs to be protected...but after I do this..." trailing off, Michael looked over towards his son, a desperate pleading hope in his eyes, "we'll be safe."

Kate hadn't said anything, but now she looked interested. No one had brought up an explanation for the failsafe- exactly what 'everything' was, but there was something about Michael's determination that made 'safe' seem like a real possibility. It suddenly hit them that it was possible now- everyone was here again. Maybe Michael was right. Maybe it was time to fight back...for it all to be over. He didn't glance to Kate for approval or even support. He already had decided on his opinion.

"Okay."

----

The light from the film glowed in the darkness of the room. Jack sat in a familiar seat, making almost an identical mirror of the first time he saw this film. The only thing missing was Locke and his child-like excitement about these people who supposedly_ ran_ this island. The man had been fascinated by it. Like that had been his answer. The answer Boone died for, the answer they'd all ended up risking their lives for. Jack still couldn't see the brilliance of it.

"Hey," came Kate's soft voice from the door way. She entered the room, her eyes already watching the film. "Fascinating, huh?"

"Just the word I was thinking of," Jack mumbled. He didn't see Kate half-smile in reply. "Do you think this is it?" He said, the statement sounding sudden. "That I was taken for experiments?" He watched, transfixed by the moving pictures on the film: the person being monored by some kind of psycologist, the students doing jumping jacks outside. At one point, was he one of those people? "That I was just a lab rat and some assignment number?"

He remembered the feeling of being strapped down in his dream- knowing that something was attatched to him. Some kind of machine, though he didn't know what. Maybe he didn't even know what it was then.

"It fits the picture," Jack added. He thought about the scars on his arms, the marks that made perfect sense with his theory. Thinking of other solutions drew equally as disturbing answers. Tests would fit right in to what seemed to be the nature of the island- one giant experiment. He only wished someone would come clean about whatever happened in the hatch to assure his reasoning. Suddenly he glanced towards Kate, noticing that she, too, was now watching the film as though in a trance. "You okay?" He knew he had to consider that she was realizing the possible truth to his theory.

"Yeah," she whispered, the reply escaping her robotically. He watched her for a moment before finally going back to the film. As he did, Kate bit her lip, and immediately Jack knew: she was hiding something. Nevertheless, he didn't question her. He wanted to see if she'd tell him. "You look tired."

Or maybe her off-topic comment would give the hint.

"All I've done is sleep," Jack admitted, partially amused. He let out a laugh. "I'm tired of sleep."

He was lying as well...he had no right to be angry with her. The dreams/nightmares/memories he was having were as exhausting and confusing as they were relieving. He never knew what would happen to him- just like himself in the dreams/nightmares/memories. Jack could feel his own panic, his own fear. It was an experience beyond imagination.

"That's a nice change," Kate said with a sad smile. Jack nodded, though he didn't really agree. But just the thought of sleep reminded him of his restless sleep, and without thinking Jack closed his eyes, casually letting his head fall back against the couch.

_"Temperature of 102..."_

_----_

_"Close your eyes and remember..."_

_----_

_Again he was sitting in the room, the same drained appearance, the same terrified Juliet against the far wall._

_----_

_"Temperature of 103..."_

_----_

_"I think they're gone." _

_It was Jack's own voice that time. He was in the room again, only now Juliet was by his side, looking at him with a reaction of fear and sympathy. His expression was almost the same- fear and self-pity._

_----_

_"Temperature of 104..."_

_----_

_"Zander-"_

_----_

_"I'll leave you to your movie then."_

Jack's head snapped up, and the memories fluttered away. The voice was Kate's this time and from the present- or at least he could assume so. She was already leaving, and only the movie was their to keep him company now. It's voices filled his mind and scenes haunted his thoughts. It was no wonder there wasn't a summary on the back cover of the box.

Kate looked behind her has she snuck into the pantry. Hurrying, while still frequently glancing towards the exit, Kate opened her backback and began stuffing it with food. It was rare when she'd simply do something on orders- no questions asked. All Sawyer had said was that to trust him, she'd want Michael to do this. Whatever 'this' was.

A curse escaped her as some packaged food fell to the floor instead of to her bag. She beant down to pick the bag of potato chips up, and the break in her fast-pace planning forced her to stop and think...possibly even reconsider. But Sawyer's voice was still stuck in her head, repeated to herself over and over again to trust him.

"Dammit, Sawyer," she muttered under her breath, "you better be right."

**Author's Notes:**

Thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	11. The Failsafe and its Consequences

Life Interrupted

Chapter Eleven

**Warnings:** Violence

**Chapter Eleven: **The Failsafe and its Consequences

Juliet didn't seem uncomrtable at all with staring at him the entire time he stood there, leaning against the armory wall and watching the floor. Whether she was never taught that staring was rude or just annoying, she watched him, studying him.

"You're remembering things," Juliet decided, "that's why you keep coming back in here."

Out of the corner of his eye Jack had caught her expression as they both sat in the armory, silent, and now he saw a hint of what he had seen in multiple memories the. She was concerned about him, as she had apparently been many times before. He wondered if it had ever been the other way around.

"I keep coming back here because I volunteered to," Jack shot. He looked up to meet her eyes and then diverted his eyes back to the ground. "After Henry, no one's jumping to keep guard. So I volunteered."

He was lying through his teeth, and he knew how obvious it was. Still he remained quiet, hoping she wouldn't question him. For a moment the room was silent, until Juliet grinned.

"That's a lie," she announced, "and who's Henry?"

"That's not his real name," Jack explained. He looked back up to her. "Do you know his real name?"

Juliet raised an eyebrow but didn't answer. Jack sighed, forgetting the first part of Juliet's previous statement. She didn't.

"So you are lying," she said, grinning again. He chose not to answer. She'd already made up her mind. "You're remembering things?"

Jack sighed again, frustrated.

"No," he lied, "I'm not." But then he hesitated. "What the hell did I do for nine months?" Jack wondered outloud, partly amused. He knew there had been plenty of missing person cases where the victims had been missing for months, years. He just never thought that would happen to him. Why was he so special?

"Some kind of project."

He'd forgotten he asked the question; he assumed it would only be rhetorical. Juliet shrugged.

"That's what we thought it was," she explained. Her voice fell, and Juliet looked down. "I just hope you'll remember what it was like...me and you. We were friends. Well, not exactly, but...we were the for each other, you know? And I hope you realize that what you're doing is a mistake. Because...I'm not the enemy."

She looked up to Jack. Her grin was gone. She was dead serious; hurt. Jack swallowed. If he was wrong about this, if Juliet wasn't the enemy...Jack shook his head. He should want to be wrong, and he did. But he didn't want to think about the consequences of the mistake. Jack opened the armory door.

"I'll be back later."

----

The tent smelled. It was all he could think of as he lay a card down on the sand.

"Any eights?" Walt asked, grinning.

Sawyer turned to Kate, incredulous, and slammed two eights on the ground. He felt like he'd be sick to his stomach. He honestly didn't want to be rude, but he was in an insanly closed space with a kid who hadn't taken a real shower in...he didn't want to think about how long. He wondered how it was that Kate didn't seem to notice.

"Any..."

"I quit," Sawyer mumbled, throwing the rest of his cards on the ground. Walt's mouth fell open as he stared at Sawyer, clearly hurt. He felt bad for the kid, who probably hadn't been around anyone but his father in months, but Sawyer's mind was elsewhere. What exactly was going to happen when Michael pulled that failsafe? He heard stories about the hatch during the first failsafe. Would this reaction be simular but stronger? Should they be taking cover instead of paying card games? Taking cover where?

"Sawyer," Kate warned.

"I have a headace," Sawyer announced, getting to his feet. He wasn't lying.

"Are you leaving?" Walt called after him. The kid sounded both worried and anxious.

"Yeah," Sawyer said.

Walt looked from Kate to Sawyer, hesitating, nervous, as they waited for him to continue.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Walt admitted. Sawyer felt an urge to reply with some rude remark, confirming his regret in accepting Michael's offer. But he knew the kid was embarrased and telling the truth. And he did still feel bad for Walt. He was in no place to punish him...if only he hadn't reacted so slowly that night on the raft none of this would have happened.

"Fine," Sawyer muttered. Walt jumped to his feet. "But stay close." Kate stared at him; Sawyer groaned. "And I'll go with ya."

----

Once Sawyer and Walt were gone Kate decided to take a break from babysitting as well. She went to the hatch, hoping to find Jack there, despite the pain in her stomach she felt everytime she thought about lying to him. She felt obliged to see how he was doing, and she wanted to know as well. Not to mention...if Michael really was going to turn the failsafe, maybe the hatch wasn't the best place for Jack to be.

"Jack?" She called as she entered the main room of the hatch. She peered into the room he'd been staying in. He wasn't in there. "Jack?"

She stepped into the kitchen. At first sight the room appeared to be empty, but then she noticed a tool box on the ground, nearly empty due to the fact that the tools inside were scattered across the kitchen floor, though all within reach of someone who was buried under the kitchen sink.

"Jack?" She said again, puzzled. On cue, Jack slid out from the cabinets. He was covered in sweat and grime, and Jack wiped a hand across his face, as though now he would look more presentable.

"Hey," he said, "did you need something?"

She laughed.

"What are you doing?" She said, amused because she already knew the answer.

"Plumbing," Jack replied, shrugging, "water pressure's low. None of the pipes are responding well."

With that he disapeared back underneath the cabinets.

"When did you learn to be a plumber?" She began. "Was that before you learned to fly or before med school?"

"Actually," Jack said, his voice sounding distant, "before both. How about when I was ten. I dropped my dad's old wedding ring down the sink."

They both laughed; Jack didn't mind laughing at his own past. But, as always, his wording struck her the most: "_old_ wedding ring". But she didn't get to ask. A loud burst interrupted them.

"Dammit!" Jack exclaimed, scrambling away from the pipe that had exploded. He was drenched. Kate couldn't help but to laugh. "Yeah, well when you can't take a shower for three days just remember how good that laugh felt."

He only stopped to dry his face with a hand towel that was half black with grime before disapearing again. Water continued to flow from the pipe; Jack didn't seem to be helping the problem at all.

"Scoot over," Kate said.

"What?" Jack inquired before a new burst of water cut him off.

Kate appeared in the dark space underneath the sink just in time to help Jack cover the leak, using a towel she'd grabbed. They looked at each other, both of their faces soaked with water. They laughed.

"Did we attend the same plumbing school?" Jack teased.

"I dunno," Kate replied, "where I went they taught us how to actually fix this kind of thing."

Jack grinned and so did she, but his smile soon faded.

"I can fix this," he said.

She looked up to where his hand was covering the leak. His fingers were shaking.

"I can help," she offered.

"Yeah, how?"

Reaching up, Kate allowed the water to momentarily fall onto them as she turned a knob towards the back of the cabinet. The water turned off. Jack looked to her.

"What did you do?" He asked in awe.

Kate rolled her eyes.

"I turned off the water," she said. She slid out from underneath the sink and held out a hand to help Jack up. "Everything will be off until we figure out how to fix it."

Jack took her hand and let her help him lift himself off the ground. He slipped, but grabbed a hold of the sink before falling. Kate grinned, but Jack just stared at her.

"We?"

"Every plumber needs a partner," Kate explained, "you know, the guy to share donuts with and for all the customers to ask out."

Now Jack was grinning.

"So I get to do all the work."

"Exactly."

Jack shook his head, as though he wasn't going to believe her.

"I'll go get some towels," he offered.

Kate thought quickly, contemplating her real reason for being there.

"Actually," she said, grabbing his arm to stop him. "I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk."

Jack stared at her, taking her words in. He didn't look enthused or even remotly accepting of the offer. Suddenly Kate was feeling sick again, and she had to look away.

"Like this?" Jack finally said. "Let me go get those towels first."

He pulled away.

"Right," she found herself saying before realizing what she was doing. But once she knew what she was saying, Kate didn't regret speaking up. "Then you get to make some excuse to keep me away." Her eyes trailed back to his, hurt and betrayed. "When are we going to get to talk again?"

Jack let out a laugh; this time he really couldn't believe what she was saying. Kate felt more hurt than ever, it was as though he was completely ignoring reality. Completely ignoring her.

"We just fixed a sink together," he pointed out.

"I fixed the sink," she corrected. He didn't reply. "When are you going stop hiding down here like you're some...vampire?" Before he could retort she answered for him, a sad smile on her face. "Or wait, that's the answer, right? The Others turned you into a vampire and now you have to hide inside so you don't have to reveal to me the truly hideuous creature you are." She shook her head. "Just...don't."

She turned and began walking away until she remembered the failsafe. Kate stopped and bit her lip.

"Okay," Jack said suddenly. "Let's go for a walk."

She couldn't help but to smile.

"But first I am going to get those towels," Jack said. As he walked passed her, he added: "You'll thank me later."

As Jack left, Kate raised a hand to her head, a laugh of relief escaping her. She was sure he wasn't agreeing just for her. Maybe things were finally turning around.

----

"So," Sawyer called as he waited for Walt nearby. He tried not to consider how awkward this was. "How's you're dad been doin'? How's he been dealing with things?"

"Quietly," Walt replied. He suddenly appeared in front of Sawyer. "He doesn't really talk. I mean, he does, he asks how I'm doing and stuff...but he doesn't talk about, you know, what happened to him." He looked up up, meeting Sawyer's eyes. "What did happen to him?"

Sawyer hesitated for a moment before placing a hand on Walt's shoulder.

"That's a story for another night, Kiddo."

If he knew Michael he knew that he wouldn't want his son worrying about him. And Sawyer could never know what really happened, especially during Michael's solo-search party for Walt. What Sawyer didn't want to answer was why they waited so long to go look for him, why everyone would hate him and his father now.

"So, what happened after the raft?" Walt spoke up as they headed back towards Sawyer's tent. "After they took me." He glanced up towards Sawyer. "They shot you."

"I could ask you the same thing," he said. Walt looked worried. Sawyer laughed. "Don't worry, no harm done."

Walt looked down to the ground. He thought about talking to the kid, wondering if he should tell him what he'd been through. Maybe Walt did need closure...someone to talk to.

"You know-"

"It's five," Walt said suddenly, looking up from the watch Sawyer hadn't noticed was on the boy's wrist.

"Guess it is," Sawyer said, "looks like we might miss-"

"Be quiet!" Walt hissed. Sawyer obeyed, stunned by the demand. Walt stared up at the sky, eyes growing dark and determined.

"You trying to conjure your broomstick?" Sawyer snorted.

Walt ignored him and only kept staring up at the sky. Sawyer's eyebrows furrowed, and he stopped joking.

"What?" He inquired.

This time, Walt looked away from the sky and answered quietly:

"Nothing," he said, sounding disapointed, "just thought I saw something. I guess it was just a bird."

The boy sounded sick with disapointment. The island must have been taking its toll on him, Sawyer thought, Walt was missing out on a good deal of his childhood. No one deserved what Walt had been put through.

"Hey," Sawyer spoke up. He stopped and so did Walt. "I'm sure whatever you're dad's off doing he's got you in mind. He'll do whatever it is to raise hell against the Others and get out of here. You two have that boat, you'll be home watching cartoon reruns in no time."

Walt stared at him, not sure whether or not to believe his promise. Sawyer attempted to remain sincere, even though he had a feeling he was lying. Whatever Michael was planning the Others wouldn't be happy about. But he wasn't about to remind the kid that his dad was on a life-risking solo mission of revenge. At last Walt smiled, a sad grin forming on his face as he imagined Sawyer's story coming true. Then he turned and began walking back towards the beach.

----

He crept towards the failsafe box, stepping carefully though he had checked the ground dozens of times for traps. There were none, and surprisingly, the failsafe was fairly easy to find. What was difficult was how to get inside the failsafe, how to activate it. You'd have to have the key, one would think. But, no, Michael had something else...

The time was five o'clock. Exactly. Michael bit his lip as tears instinctively filled his eyes. In only moments, his revenge against the island would be fulfilled. He could go home with no more guilt. It could all be over.

A sob escaped him, and Michael waited for the signal. Just then, a single rain drop fell from the sky. Michael looked up. Above him the sky was a perfect blue. The tears fell harder, as much as Michael tried to control them. He looked back to the failsafe. The cover flew off, and Michael jumped. This was it...he watched as the knob turned, a quater's way, half-way, and then...

The ground vibrated violently, shaking like an earthquake had pushed the island away. He couldn't even take in the other effects that came rapidly. The only thought that could register in his mind was that they did it...they could go home now.

----

Walt had snuck back into Sawyer's tent just as it happened. Before he could step in himself, Sawyer felt the ground shake below him. The sensation felt familiar, and he knew that everyone on the beach down from him was being hit with the same dejavu. That day on the pier, that day when they were first taken...

He heard Walt scream inside and simular screams were erupting from nearby.

"Stay here!" Sawyer shouted. Now the sound was coming. Loud, painful...

He ran down the beach, sand flying around him as the wind picked up. This didn't happen last time. He could barely make out the rest of the camp once he reached it. Charlie was trying to usher Aaron and Claire back into Claire's tent. Other people were taking the same action, while the rest stood around, looking stunned. He didn't see Kate. He panice and tried shouting for her but he could hardly hear his own voice. Others were screaming too, he could see them but couldn't hear them. It was like the world had suddenly turned hallow. Everything was shaking, spinning...

And suddenly the world flashed black. Now he could hear the screams. The sun disapeared, the sky disapeared. And for that moment, the island disapeared.

----

Six days. Six days had passed, six meetings. Nothing had been done. Jack still wasn't back, and Zander was now openly worried. Dr. Campbell was there with him to provide support at their sixth meeting in the empty hatch, but none of his words would cure him.

"Maybe we should just-"

The doctor was cut off by a vibration; the ground shook and then the walls of the hatch. Dr. Campbell looked around, panicing. But it was obvious to Zander what was going on.

"Get outside!" He ordered. "And get to the main hatch as quick as you can!"

Dr. Campbell simply stared at him as the lights began to flicker above them.

"Go!"

He did. Zander ran after him and was met by a group of their people, wondering around the jungle, eyes turned to the sky. The world looked to be falling apart around them. They were in shock, he realized. They hadn't seen anything like_ this_. They were promised protection, they should have never had to face this.

"Get inside!" Zander ordered. "Into the Green Room, now!"

He only stopped running when he noticed Dr. Campbell standing nearby, having already led a group towards the building. Their eyes met, and Zander seemed to know what he was saying, vice versa. It was a conversation they'd had many of times; but on top of that worry, as he snapped out of it and continued to chase after everyone else, Zander had to wander how he'd explain this failure.

----

She was tying her shoes when Jack came back into the main room, wearing new clothes and drying his face off with a towel.

"Ready?" She asked him.

"Yeah," Jack replied, reaching for a bottle of water sitting nearby, "let me just make sure my fangs are straight."

Kate rolled her eyes.

"You're only laughing at yourself," Kate teased, standing up from the couch. Jack was still grinning, and Kate was relieved. She didn't want this to be as awkward as it could be. She just wanted things to get relatively back to normal...she wanted them to both be able to move on. "Let's-"

The reaction came as though she'd cued it, placing a curse on the island. The ceiling began to shake, then then lights, then the walls. They turned around, searching for the cause, but the only response was more violent vibrations. The hatch was falling apart.

"Jack!" Someone screamed from far away.

The girl, Kate remembered, Jack's prisoner. She turned to Jack and their eyes met.

"Juliet," Jack announced, face a sickly white. He dashed towards the armory, and Kate instinctivly followed. Frantically Jack turned the combination as Kate watched the hatch fall around them.

"Jack..."

He threw the door open. But just as Juliet began to crawl out of the armory(a shelf had fallen behind her), they were thrown in. Kate gasped as her back hit the shelf and the wall, and she heard Jack groan in pain. But they didn't hesitate to recover; Juliet herself was already reaching for the door. But it was too late. They heard a slam, and they were locked in.

----

Sawyer remembered Walt announcing it was five o'clock, so maybe it wasn't too suspicious that the sky was suddenly a dark purple color. The black had flashed away as quick as it came, leaving a stinging pain in everyone's eyes. He stood in the midst of the chaos, watching people wonder in shock around him. A new dejavu hit: the day of the crash.

Catching sight of his own tent, Sawyer snapped out of his daze. He ran towards the tent, having accomplished nothing, and threw himself inside, mind pounding with worry for Walt. When he opened the tent the boy was still inside, smiling. Sawyer just stared, confused.

"I did it!" Walt exclaimed. Unable to contain his excitement, Walt leaped up, throwing his arms around Sawyer. Sawyer wondered if he was simply missing something. Then he remembered...the failsafe. Dread sank within him as he half-heartily returned Walt's embrace, not hearing him as the boy cried: "We did it!"

----

When Zander entered the Green Room everyone- assumingly- was there. Eyes wondered around the room, glaring at each other. No longer could they act like family or even friends. By now they had caught up; they knew what was going on.

"Is everyone here?" Zander called to the crowd. No one answered him. They stood against walls, casually leaned against chairs, all with their arms crossed, angry. "Is everyone all right?"

"Yes," Dr. Campbell finally replied, "everyone's here. We're okay."

Silence fell over them as Zander's eyes fell over the crowd, wondering how he'd address the issue. Their anger was understandable. Their hatred, hurt, betrayel. He couldn't blame them.

Tom stepped up.

"What the hell's going on?" He demanded. He stepped towards Zander with a sense of authority and fury. There was no doubt he was speaking for everyone. "If this is part of whatever plan of yours-"

He surprised himself by remaining calm as he replied:

"You think I did this?" His eyes met Tom's, full of his own betrayel. He knew he had been keeping secrets for a long time, and they deserved answers...but they should have known that he would have never done anything like this. Tom didn't answer. Zander turned back to the rest. "Everyone's accounted for?" Scanning the crowd, he received his answer. Yes, everyone was there. Which meant it'd be impossible for one of themselves to have pulled the failsafe. He turned to Dr. Campbell. "See what you can save. Start all the systems back up as soon as you can." The doctor nodded and Zander now turned to Tom. Their eyes met again, and any remaining hatred from their previous confrontation obviously still lay within Tom. Zander attempting to ignore this. "Go to Their camp. Find out who did this."

Amongst his anger, a grin spread across Tom's face.

"And they're just going to tell us?"

"Yes."

He could feel everyone's eyes on himself as he explained. Reaching behind him, Zander pulled out a gun.

"Because if you don't," he went on, "you're going to kill one of them." He handed the gun to Tom. The shock around him was obvious and suddenly Zander found himself apart of everyone elses feelings. Rarely did he order death threats. He was a man of negotiation, understanding. But never had someone attacked them like this. They should have known the consequences, and if they were any kind of hero, they knew what they were prepared to die for.

"They have weapons," Tom reminded him, "surely they'll be prepared-"

A small grin crept across Zander's face at Tom's worry.

"Are you afraid of them?" He challenged.

Tom's face sank into a dark, cold glare.

"No."

Zander smiled again.

"What about Jack?"

Zander turned towards the question, coming from Dr. Campbell. One of the few who would still be concerned with the captive. Others were just...frustrated. Thinking for a moment, Zander considered his options. Juliet was out there, but she had been gone for nearly a week. Alex and Pickett were gone, but this was a perfect opportunity, when Jack would be caught off-guard, confused, frightened. He turned back to Tom.

"Yes," he said, "bring Jack back too."

Tom nodded and said something to the crowd, who began to disperse. They knew what they needed to do, and Zander knew what he needed to do. Wait, hide if he was smart. Worry. Yes, the same could have been said about himself. It was the perfect time to attack as he was frightened, more than anyone could know. Only the two he'd allowed could ever guess. As the room emptied, Dr. Campbell approached him.

"Everything happens for a reason," Dr. Campbell reminded him.

Zander wasn't reassured or felt anything close to relief.

"If everything happens for a reason," he said, "then maybe this is the wrong solution."

----

Part of him was relieved that Walt was so thrilled about the reaction to the failsafe; at least he didn't have to reassure the kid. Sawyer was still a little shaken himself. The Others would have seen what happened, and they wouldn't waste any time for their own revenge. But Walt was lying on the ground, reading a book, simply waiting for his father to return. The thought made Sawyer sick. How could Michael have been so stupid? But anger would do him no good...the smart decision would be to go after Michael, warn him. Maybe even get there in time to save him.

"I'm gonna go get some water," Sawyer told Walt.

"Okay."

He was sure he hadn't even heard what he'd asked. Sawyer waited for the kid to speak up but left when he never did.

Outside the air felt warm, and everything he was feeling felt as though he were in a dream. People stood around, whispering theories in low voices as though afraid of being overheard. He needed to find Kate so he could start looking for Michael- he couldn't leave Walt alone. No excitment exceeded solitude.

"Hey man," Hurley called after him, running to catch up with Sawyer. "Does my finger look weird to you? It was just all purple-like all of a sudden..."

"Do I look like a doctor?" Sawyer snapped.

"Well, uh," Hurley studdered, "Jack's kinda not here, and Sayid's out looking for Danielle."

Sawyer stopped and turned to Hurley, infuriated.

"Was he already looking for Danielle?" He asked, still taking in what was told to him.

Hurley looked like he was caught in the middle of a lie, unsure what to say or do.

"Well, you see..."

"I don't believe this," Sawyer muttered as he continued to storm up the beach. In the midst of a crises Sayid just decides to leave. He was more angry than surprised. "Where's Kate and Jack?"

"I don't know."

He stopped again. If the Others had to react to this failsafe, and Jack was missing, and Kate too...the dots seemed to connect in the most frightening of ways.

----

"Hey!" Jack called, banging on the door. "Let us out!" Only silence answered him. Underneath the door was darkness, as was in the armory. He could sense Juliet and Kate behind him, but there was no real assurance they were there. "Let us out!"

"Jack-" he couldn't help to feel relieved upon hearing Kate's voice, even if he would rather be left to his determination in getting them out.

"Be quiet!" He hissed, pressing his ear against the door, listening carefully for any sign of movement. The entire quake had lasted a few minutes...what was the guarantee there was even still a rest of the hatch? What if they were trapped in the armory forever? And if Juliet really was one of them...

"Jack!" Kate exclaimed again. He turned towards her voice, but of course he could not see her. "I know a way out."

He heard some movement, and suddenly he could sense Kate moving away from them.

"Kate..." he warned, worried. He could hear her ignoring him. Somehow he knew to look towards the ceiling, though only dread could tell him what Kate's plan was. There was a small pop and then a loud clatter as something fell on the floor.

"Watch out!" Kate called. Juliet let out a small scream as whatever the item was fell next to her.

"Kate, whatever you're planning, there's a safer way out," Jack insitsted.

"Like what?" He heard Kate let out a huff as she struggled and then silence. "Okay, I'm in."

Jack looked up, squinting to see through the darkness, determined to stop her.

"In where?" He inquired.

"The ceiling."

His heart began to race faster than before as the situation threatened to slip from his control.

"Kate, please..." he stopped. He wanted to insist that he could go, but that would be placing Kate's life at the hands of a possible enemy. Unless Juliet surprised them and attacked them both, climbed out, and did who knows what other harm. There were so many possibilities of dangerous situations.

"I'll be fine," she assured him, "I've done this before."

There was no relief, no good feeling about this at all that made him want to go along with this. The plan seemed flat out stupid. Crowling through vents in the dark, with no distinct path or knowledge of where she was going.

"Kate, just hold on," he said, "let me think."

There was a pause. No answer.

"Kate?" He paniced. He felt sick.

"I think she's gone," Juliet whispered.

He wanted to pace, it was what he did in pathetic attempts to calm himself, but he couldn't risk himself getting hurt. He was forced to stay put, to contemplate and to worry. He didn't know what to do. Should he go after her? Or stay and wait for-

The door to the armory opened. Through dim emergancy lights he could see a smile highlighting Kate's face. He couldn't help but to smile himself.

"Let's get out of here," she proclaimed, reaching for his hand to help him out.

"Not so fast."

The voice made them jump; but it was wasn't from Juliet. Jack heard her scream behind him, and he was too stiff to scream himself when Kate was hit over the head and fell to the floor. He at least knew to fall to her side, to try and keep her awake. But they'd be coming after him next...

His heart was still racing, pounding in worry and fear. Juliet was screaming nearby. Kate was struggling for consciousness from where he held her in his arms, eyes fluttering open and shut.

"Kate," he whispered to her, a hand holding the wound on her head. Her blood was seeping through his fingers. They were behind him, and he didn't know why they were taking so long to attack him as well. But he wasn't going to ask...

But at that thought Kate's eyes widened. He wanted to look behind him, to prepare, but he couldn't. By then Kate had already been shot, the dart piercing into her kneck as it had so long before, shocking and shaking her into silence. Before he could reach to help her a dart hit him as well. He fell, hitting the floor with a force that made him tremble, shaking violently with fear and the pain being forced into him. He didn't think he could move, but he wanted to be there for her. He had to help her...shaking, he reached a trembling hand towards her. Her eyes were closing to a temporary permanet state, but she was able to meet his one last time as his hand fell on hers, and their minds fell into the ironic darkness they would need to survive.

----

They came together on the beach at sundown, formed in a group of worried survivors confused and uncertain of their future. Sawyer stood amongst them, contiously glancing around for Kate. She still hadn't shown. The minute they finished their headcount he would be racing to find Kate.

"And Amanda?" Locke said. "Is she here?"

Now the frustration was too much. For five minutes they had been standing there as Locke called out each other their names, wasting time as it was obvious who was missing.

"Yes, she's here!" Sawyer shot, answering for Amanda, who looked petrified at his interruption. "We're all here, everyone except for-"

"Jack?"

The group turned. Anger reached Sawyer before fear, unlike most. He knew that voice...his hand reached for the gun behind him. Tom was standing in front of him, a group of Others behind him. The survivors around Sawyer tensed but instinctively both grew closer and spread out at the same time, as though hoping for a better look.

"Where is Jack?" Tom asked, sounding too casual for Sawyer's liking. "Whom just happens to be missing at such a convinent-"

Sawyer drew his weapon and pointed it directly at Tom, and shot. Tom simply stepped out of the way. Had the Other behind him not been alert, she would have been left to take the bullet. Sawyer was about to fire another shot when Tom pointed the gun at one of the castaways- Claire. Hesitation fell on him, and Sawyer relucantly lowered his weapon. He wasn't going to hesitate to murder every one of Them when he got the chance, but he couldn't risk Claire's life.

Around him, people were stiff in panic and fear. Jin held a protective hand over the child in Sun's arms, Sun herself looking terrified. Her eyes swelled with tears.

"So tell me," Tom said, "who pulled the failsafe?"

Naturally, no one answered. No one but Sawyer knew what failsafe he was talking about. His plan was to keep it that way, but Tom, ready to shoot, didn't look keen on leaving.

"Who pulled the failsafe?" He asked again. "Or she dies."

Charlie's hand held Claire's shoulder protectively, as the couple glared at the Others- all with weapons drawn- glaring with the pain the group had caused them since crashing on the island. They hardly looked afraid, and Sawyer knew what it took to reach that point where anger could overcome fear. But no matter how angry they were, the castaways were in an incredibly pathetic situation. Any theatrical movie had Jack riding up, knight in shining armor, to save them all. But the island was different. There was no easy way out.

"I did."

The words came out of him, bitter, angry, but the truth. As far as the Others were concerned. He only hoped Kate would understand.

"That's all I needed to know," Tom replied.

With that he took his gun out of harm's way from Claire, but only to aim it now at Sawyer. The bullet hit him before any of them saw it.

----

If there was one person who didn't understand the meaning and possible importance of patience it was Danielle Rousseau. Then again, why should she? She understandably signed up for every rescue mission once she was told Jack was missing- taken by the same people who took her daughter. And when Jack was never found, but her daughter was still out there, Danielle never stopped looking. They hadn't seen her in months, and Sayid wasn't even certain of where he should be looking. But he did know that she wouldn't be close to their camp, even if something as big as what happened took its effect on her. Sayid himself had a headache. He felt weak, exhausted, though he knew he was well-rested and should be fully capable of taking on the search. The entire forest had taken on a dark and hazy look, the light within it standing gray amongst the night. Surely Danielle would have questions or accusations. But Sayid knew she wouldn't even turn back for such an event...which would mean she would also be further out than he seemed capable of walking. Giving into his weakness, Sayid turned back, knowing, of anything, people back at camp may need him as well.

He was proven right. A gunshot went off just as he neared the beach. He stopped and listened. Screaming. Fear. This wasn't an accident...

Sayid hid just as he heard someone near him, and through leaves he could make out Tom Friendly, along with a few Others. His hand instantly gripped the gun by his side, but Sayid waited, listening to their conversation.

"He's not going to be happy." He recognized the woman from the tales of the day on the pier- her name was Bea. She was talking to Tom, who was leading the group. But Tom didn't looked satisfied or even relieved at their triumph. He looked stressed.

"Not that we know why," Tom shot, his tone bitter and annoyed. Scratching his forehead, Tom seemed to be doing a poor job at hiding his frustration. "Zander's got more troubles than we know."

"Then you know," a man behind Tom snorted. Tom stopped, and Sayid was grateful. He might not have to follow Them for long.

"Did you say something?" Tom demanded. The man remained silent, looking terrified. The group walked on.

"Sayid!"

His fist found Desmond's jaw on accident, but nevertheless the shouting stopped. Desmond doubled over in pain.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" Desmond groaned, wiping blood from his lip.

"Sorry," Sayid said, hardly sincere, "forgive me if I don't want all of us found by Them."

Turning away from Desmond, Sayid turned back towards where the group of Others had been. Where were they going? Better yet, why were they leaving? But, without question, they were gone.

"We'll have to follow them," Sayid announced, more to himself than to Desmond.

He crept passed the jungle that had been hiding him and began to follow the Others' path. A hand grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

"There's no time!" Desmond exclaimed. "We need your help!"

In his mind Sayid hesitated, but he knew this could be an opportunity that could help them all. If he could at least follow the Others and find out where they were going...

"Then go to Jack," Sayid suggested. He suddenly felt confused. Why go to Jack? For nearly as long as he could remember, he had always sent people to Locke for help, or Eko.

"We don't know where he is!"

Stopping, Sayid slowly turned to Desmond. His mind raced with worry and dejavu.

"Look, we need your help!" Desmond insisted. "Sawyer's been shot!"

----

Locke was knealing beside Sawyer's body when they reached the beach. The survivors stood around the two, eyes wide with terror. Some were still screaming.

"Everyone calm down!" Sayid heard Desmond say. Everyone did stop, but more in confusion than obedience. Desmond pointed to Sayid and explained: "Sayid's here."

Falling to the ground beside Locke, Sayid immediately found the wound. Sawyer's entire stomach was bloody. He was breathing roughly, and not even close to what his normal heartrate should have been.

"He's right," Sayid told the crowd, "everyone remain calm...and someone go find Jack."

"But we don't know-"

"Someone go find Jack!"

"I'll go," Locke offered, getting to his feet. "Eko?"

Eko must have agreed to join him, because soon it was quiet again, until Claire remembered:

"And Kate." Everyone looked at her. "Kate's missing too."

Their eyes lingered on her for a moment until Charlie wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder, glaring at them. Claire looked away.

"Kate?"

Sawyer mumbled the name, grimacing in pain as he did. Sayid immediately turned to him.

"She's alright," Sayid assured him.

"Hatch..."

"Hatch?" Hurley asked from nearby. Sayid ignored them both as he tried to stop the bleeding.

"That must be where Kate is!" Charlie reasoned. "Maybe she's with Jack!"

"Then go tell Locke and Eko that," Sayid said through gritted teeth, determined to not let himself be distracted from healing the wound. Before anyone could more, Sawyer spoke again:

"Walt."

Sayid's eyebrows furrowed at the name, barely audible as Sawyer said it.

"Walt hasn't been seen for nearly ten months," Sayid said, pressing on the wound harder as the blood continued to build up. They would need to get the bullet out soon.

"Walt..." Sawyer mumbled again, but no one heard him. Sayid seemed to sense everyone elses confusion, and instinctively looked up.

Everyone was staring at Walt. The boy stood a good distance away from them, hesitant as he watched them watching him. At first glance Walt looked phsyically fine, probably traumatized. Most noticiably, he was alone.

A rough cough drew his attention back to Sawyer. But after only a few more coughs, the man's eyes were closed.

"Sawyer!" Sayid called desperately. There was no answer. "Sawyer!"

----

They did think of going to the hatch first. Locke tried the door, but on the first try it was stuck. When it finally opened, all they could see was darkness. Only an emergancy light or two offered relief. There was a backup system for the lights, but it would have to be activated.

"Guess there was a power outtage," Locke wondered outloud. Cautiously they stepped into the hatch, and Locke kept an eye out for the safe of flashlights that should have been nearby. He searched the wall until he found the box.

"Sh!" Eko warned. At first Locke was taken aback, but then he realized:

"They could be in here." The Others.

Eko nodded. Locke carefully took out a flashlight and wrapped it around the bottom of his shirt to dim the light. The main room would be right ahead, but judging from the idems sprawn about the floor, Locke found himself confused. Kitchen pots, pans, knives, forks, and even food were thrown about the floor. Glass cracked at his feet. The ping-pong table was turned over to its side, the paddles feet away. Locke picked one of them up and examined it. If he were a policeman, he might call this a break-in. But he knew it was something more...

"Kate." The word jumped from his mouth as he found his next mystery. A body lay on the floor nearby, turned over to its stomach. Running towards her, Locke fell to her side and carefully turned Kate to her back. She was already stirring awake.

"John?" She asked, squinting through the darkness. He offered her a grim smile that wasn't returned as she glanced around the room, confused.

"Is she alright?" Eko asked as he peered into the rest of the hatch.

"I don't know," Locke replied honestly. When Kate looked back to him, he snapped out of his confusion. "Here, let me help you."

"No..." Kate attempted to sit up herself, but only fell back down. Frowning, Locke put a hand behind her head where she'd frantically been holding on. His hand brought back blood. "Where's Jack?"

Locke looked up, past Kate and through what light he could see. The question hit him with a wave of sickness. He looked around the room, desperate to be able to reassure her. But he hesitated too long.

"Where's Jack?" Kate asked again, more frantic. This time she did sit up, ignoring the pain. When she didn't see Jack either she turned to Locke, terrified and panicing. "They took him!"

"I'm sure he's fine," Locke assured her, only half assured himself. Kate could have received the head wound from the incident, but where was Jack? He wouldn't have just left her there. Not unless he had gone for help. But then they would have seen him by now...

"They were here!" Kate exclaimed. "They took him!"

"Sh!" Eko hissed.

He raised a finger to his lips, face contorted into determination as he listened to something Locke couldn't hear. At first. Then, very distantly, he realized what they were hearing was screaming. Someone struggling. Someone pounding on a door. Locke looked directly ahead. The armory. Jumping up, Locke raced to the door and threw it open as soon as he finished entering the combination. Inside was Juliet, gagged with her wrist tied. Tears were streaming down her face. Locke immediately pulled her out of the armory.

"Did Jack do this?" He inquired as he ripped off her gag. He turned to Eko. "Go get a knife." Juliet shook her head. Her entire body was trembling as tears fell down her cheeks.

"Have you seen him?" Kate appeared behind Locke, holding her stomach, as though she'd be sick.

"Kate-"

"Have you seen him?" Kate asked again, ignoring Locke as she attempted to step behind him. This time she screamed. "What did you do to him? What did you do?"

Shoving Locke aside, Kate lept towards Juliet. He could now see the wound on her head clearly; blood soaked her hair. She crashed into Juliet, who fell to the floor helplessly as Kate plummeted her with her fist. Locke pulled her away, her fist still hitting the air. She was crying when he let go of her.

"I didn't do anything!" Juliet insisted from the ground. Her face was red with tears and bruised from the fight. Locke looked to her. "It was Them."

----

He tried to ignore Them as he walked, face straight and determined. His hands were bound behind him, and he was gagged, just like he saw Them do to Juliet.

"You might just be on Zander's nice list afterall," someone joked behind him.

"Yeah," someone else said, careful to not be too flattered by the comment. "If he hadn't have given up Pickett..."

"Who needs Pickett," a third remarked. "All he wants to do is hide from the government."

"Which?" The first man asked.

The third laughed.

"All of them."

It was hard to ignore Them. They talked and bantered like this was a casual dinner, a drink after work to relieve any hatred towards the boss. Jack wanted to fight back, but fighting a losing battle wouldn't help him. He had to remain calm and hope this time somebody would find him. He'd gotten out of this situation before and he could again.

"Hurry up," the second man grunted. "This...whatever the hell this stuff is...is getting in my eyes."

Jack blinked at the comment and realized the same was true for him. Though it was dark out there was some kind of gray mist in the jungle. It stung at the eyes and burned the skin. But Jack told himself to ignore...whatever the hell it was. Ignore any fear he had. After all, if he had any plans for revenge against the Others, maybe it was best to let the rat lead him to its hole. Then he'd go from there.

----

She shoved Locke out of the way and stormed towards the exit.

"Kate!" Locke called after her.

"I'm going after him!" Kate called back.

"No!" Locke grabbed her arm. She spun around towards him, angry. "We've got stay here."

"Why?" She was shouting now, hot, angry tears threatening to escape. "He needs us!"

She wasn't just going to sit and watch as history repeated itself. She didn't need someone to tell her what she should do. This time she couldn't let Jack down...she couldn't hurt him again. Kate didn't wait for Locke's permission. She turned to leave.

"Sawyer may need you."

Kate stopped. Breathing heavily, mind reeling with fear and worry and even guilt, Kate turned back towards Locke.

"Why?" She asked slowly. Hesitant, Locke didn't answer. She began to panic. "Why would Sawyer need me?" Of course she was worrie about him, but Sawyer could take care of himself...maybe he could even help her find Jack. But if something was wrong...her mind spun with possibilities. "Why does he need me, John?"

At last Locke admitted:

"He's been shot."

Kate fell back a step, then forwards. She felt sick, so sick with worry her mind nearly stopped.

"By who?" She demanded. Again, Locke hesitated. She screamed: "Who shot him?"

Locke hesitated again, then simply ignored her.

"Turn the emergacny lights on," he instructed, already walking away. "We need to be ready...they'll need to bring him down here."

She hardly heard a word he said. She only stared at him, eyes wide, hoping she had misunderstood. Sawyer was shot...again? And this time it didn't seem as 'lucky' as a shot to the arm either. How...she shook her head. It couldn't be true.

"We'll need towels," Locke was saying from an adjacent room, "water..."

Only she and Eko were left in the room. They looked at each other.

"I'll go find Jack," he announced.

Kate found herself nodding, though she felt so completely absent-minded she wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do. She wanted to help find Jack as well, but she needed to make sure Sawyer was safe. It felt like what little foundation of her life left in her was falling apart around her as she stood there amongst the wreckage that was the hatch, dim light highlighting her fear as Juliet watched everything from nearby, startled and afraid.

----

He was on the ground, hands tied behind his back, but he was still unwilling to offer Them any hint of fear.

"What does he want with him anyway?" One of the Others asked. Jack tensed at the mention of himself but still listened closely. "You'd think after nine months-"

"I told you I don't know!" Tom snapped. He was angry and, without a doubt, honest. Jack couldn't help but to smile; Tom looked towards him right at that moment. "What's your problem?" Jack didn't answer, but his grin lingered. Tom shook his head and began walking towards him. "We need to get back."

He wiped away his grin quickly as he allowed Tom to untie his binds. He thought quickly, taking in his surroundings. There was only three of them that he could see. If he was quick, and with luck, he could possibly take on them all. But who knew how many more of them there were out there...

A loud howl would tell him he didn't have to worry. Not about escape. The Others, as did he, looked towards the jungle, looks of fear on their faces. One of them cursed, but only Tom dared to speak up:

"That damn failsafe..." he began.

"We lost control?" Another asked, panicing. The man had turned pale and was trembling. Again Tom shook his head. There was another howl, this time closer. The monster, Jack realized...how could he not before?

"Run!"

Each man obeyed Tom's order without question. Whether or not one was supposed take him with them, he did not know. He was left standing there, staring at the jungle, frozen, as the monster came closer and closer..._Run_ he told himself. But he could not move. He phsyically could not move...His heart began to race. The monster was only a few yards away...why couldn't he run like everyone else? This was his chance to escape...

He would never get it. Any hope of escape was gone as the trees parted in front of him. His chest hurt from his rapidly beating heart; he was conscious of his breathing, uncontrolled, surely unhealthy. His eyes locked into the trees in front of him, determined, at least, to see what would kill him.

At first he saw nothing. Only darkness. A darker darkness, if possible. All was still around him, like the jungle was being respectful of Its presence. Jack remained quiet too. He couldn't even scream as the darkness seemed to be creeping towards him...because the darkness was _moving_. His eyes were adjusting to this thing coming towards him: some kind of dark cloud, it looked like. Dark and moving, narrow and wide. Thick and thin. He took it all in as his whole body remained in a horrific, frozen panic. It came towards him, now slowly despite Its previous speed. Or maybe It couldn't move that fast at all.

Then It lept towards him as though taken aback, like Jack had insluted It. Now running seemed like an unthinkable possibility. His arms began to tremble. He was beginning to lose feeling in his muscles. He felt cold...then warm. And cold again. His mind raced with only fear and an even deeper fear; then a sudden unmistakanable fear for Kate, and he could only worry and hope that she had not been brought out here as well.

His feet were now apart of the jungle, unwilling to move as he stood, both frozen and trembling, staring at the thing as It neared him. But It lept towards him again...Jack gasped and fell backwards on instinct. When he fell to the ground his his heart was beating faster than ever. His hands grabbed onto the earth below him, clenching the island beneath him with a desperate need of hope. It was in front of him now. He could feel It, feel It _breathing_. It was alive. As alive as any other enemy on this island. Alive and dark and hidden and undefeatable. Only fear kept him breathing and he closed his eyes as helpless tears threatened to reveal what pathetic amount of bravery still within him. The ground felt wet beneath him; he was losing hold of what felt like his last chance of hope.

He could still feel It even with his eyes closed. It was looking at him, watching him, taunting him. Daring him to look. But he wouldn't. He couldn't...Jack shivered. And again. He was trembling uncontrolably; in fact, he felt like he had no control. No control of whether he lived or died. No control over his fear, how horrifically afraid he was of this Thing that wasn't even human. And It watched him, sensing all of this. He could feel this.

Suddenly an eye opened. Then another. The movment felt forced as his trembling eyelids shook open, not wanting to see what was in front of him even as he looked. Still voluntary, but at the same time...he scrambled backwards. The cloud of darkness was right in front of him, not even inches away. It had no eye, but Jack could still feel It watching him, interested. He scooted backwards, hands scraping the ground as he willinging pinned himself against the same tree he had been tied to only moments before. But those moments felt like hours...everything felt a life time away: talking to Kate on the beach, so many months ago. Yelling at her for lying to him about the case. Coming back to her, desperate for forgivness. Their first kiss and the way she ran away, leaving him more confused than ever; afraid that he was losing all he had left to hold on to. Next he had only been angry. He hadn't talked to her, hadn't even tried. And all the consequences...

_This is your fault,_ he thought as he stared down the monster. _You did this..._and It was making him remember. He could feel It. He knew it wasn't right to accused this Thing he didn't even know of his own problems, and he could feel the heat of the monster's anger as he did, but he couldn't help it. He wanted to blame someone. He wanted there to be a reason he was going to die that wasn't his own fault.

The monster was angry with him. Jack couldn't look at It any longer. The eye that wasn't really there was glaring at him, cold and angry. Shaking, Jack looked away. Suddenly he just wanted this to be over. He wanted to be away, dealing with the guilt and self-hatred and self-pity. He wanted to be begging for Kate's forgivness again, explaining everything to her. How could he have lied to her knowing there wasn't time for such flaws? He needed to be back, proving that he could be leader again, that they could still trust him. He needed to be away from this Thing that held his life in a balance between fear and a relief one could only hope for at this moment...because it was the only logical way out. Jack closed his eyes.

Something touched his skin: a cold finger brushing against his chin. He shuddered as the cool touch examined the skin there, lifting his head slightly. Jack felt forced to open his eyes again. The Thing had a hold of him. Jack felt his skin tear as It let go, releasing his chin. Then It slapped him. It jumped backwards, only to leap forwards again, using the tip of Its body- no, Its form that couldn't in any possibly way be human- to _hit_ him. His face burst, burnt, with a pain he was sure he had never felt before. Jack gasped, freezing in pain as his head flew back to where it had been before, looking away. He could feel himself bleeding, cold crimson running down his cheek. His life was slowly leaving him, and he could only sit there and watch it pass by. Helpless and afraid. Begging for mercy.

_No. _As much as his life was leaving him, Jack was suddenly slowly regaining his senses through the pain. He wouldn't crawl back to this Thing for forgviness. He wouldn't give It that satisfaction. Because he didn't have to... Life was coming back to him in one wave of bravery, and Jack knew he had to take the opportunity. He fled. Crawling at first, keeping his eyes focused on the jungle in front of him, hands clenched to the ground with each step, remembering all he could about what he had learned about the island to help him escape. But eventually, somehow, he managed to pick himself up. He got to his feet and began to run away. Just like everyone else. He could escape again, running for all he lived for. Running back to all he knew: safety, reassurance. The people he cared about and who cared about him. He would be free of this suffering.

But he was pulled back. Pushed to the ground and pinned there. He crashed the ground as he was forced down, a burning pain erupting in his stomach and sides. The skin on his cheek was still stinging with a much greater pain. Blood dripped to the ground. He lay on the ground, gasping, waiting for what would happen next. He couldn't close his eyes...he was too frozen...but he was also still conscious of that desire to escape. But when he wanted to get away he couldn't; fear wouldn't let him. He fought with his own mind, even as the monster put his life in Its hands once more. He looked to the ground below him and gasped in fear when he saw his own blood. Then he couldn't see the ground. He was lifted upwards. He was _flying_. He watched as the ground left him as he was lifted upwards, away from the safety of the earth and his blood that tainted it. He didn't know what was holding him up; he didn't want to look. He only watched as the world flew by him...as he flew by it. It was a sensation he had never felt before. In an odd way, it was a freedom he had never felt before. Because even as he was nearing his death, rasing further and further above his only escape, Jack began to wrap his mind around the idea that he was, indeed, flying. How many people had yearned for that skill? Only children would ever know what it was like, vulnerable to imagination. At that moment, he felt above so much. Above life, even. Though he wasn't flying upwards, he realized, but was soaring horizontally, through the jungle. All he had to hold onto was the thought that this was the one experience he had that the rest of the world didn't. A sickness came over him...Jack remembered...not the rest of the living world.

He began to feel cold. And still sick. Suddenly he wanted to be on the ground again. He wanted to be let go...but the ground came only just after he asked for it. He watched and felt himself crashed back to earth, and watched and felt himself fly away from this world once more and into the next.

----

She couldn't wait for Eko. Sawyer had already been brought down to the hatch and Jack still wasn't back. They didn't have time to wait. Throwing open the hatch door, Kate tore into the jungle, ignoring the cool night air, ignoring everything...except the body laying nearby. Kate stopped. She felt frozen as she stiffly approached the body, laying very close to the hatch itself.

"Jack?" Kate whispered, voice trembling and afraid. He lay unmoving, and he didn't look conscious. She ran to him and fell on the ground by his side. "Jack!"

Desperately she shook him, taking note of the blood on the ground next to him.

"Jack!" She exclaimed again, her voice breaking.

At last he stirred. An eye popped open, wide and in shock. She fell back on her knees, giving him space as he attempted to lift his head. As he did, all she could see in the relieving light of the moon was blood. His face was covered in the red liquid, marking a pain she did not know. She knelt down to him.

"Oh God..." she whispered as she carefully lifted his head for him. He watched, his soul feeling so near yet vacant. He was watching and maybe conscious of what was going on, but not fully aware that he was being saved. With grace and care she touched the wound on her face, though she could not see a direct source. There was only blood, covering the left side of his face and even his chin. His arm, too, she noticed, was tinted red. She felt sick. "It's okay. You're safe."

"Locke," Jack suddenly whispered. A whisper seemed to be the best he could do. "I need to talk to Locke."

"No," she shook her head. "Jack..." a stiffled sob escaped her. How could she tell him she needed his help when he was possibly not even fully assured he was safe? After whatever he had been through... A cold, white hand grabbed her shoulder. Kate looked at it and the hand was unreconizable. Tears threatened to come and she was almost ready to let them be realized. But she only shook as she stared at Jack's hand. It belonged to a spirit, she thought, not someone who was supposed to be alive. But Jack was alive, and he looked as though he had barely escaped death.

"I want to talk to Locke," Jack went on, his own voice breaking as he quietly and desperately pleaded. "I want-"

"No!" Kate hissed. She winced at the force of her own voice. "Jack-" she fought to avoid his eyes that were watching her, haunted with death and suffering. "Sawyer's been shot."

She swallowed, gulping as dread sunk into her eyes as she forced herself to look up to him, knowing he deserved at least the respect of her not hiding. She didn't want to have to ask- she wanted to be able take care of him...him and Sawyer both- but she knew the only realistic solution was that Jack would have to help. If there was any chance for Sawyer to live...

A sob escaped her. It wasn't for sympathy but honest fear. He couldn't die...

"I'm sorry," she added, "but, please..." Again she reached up, gently stroking his bloody cheek. She sobbed again: even at her touch, only a minuscule amount of blood disapeared. A haunting guilt washed over her. She was always going to be placed in this situation, she realized, there would never be any mercy. Maybe she didn't deserve mercy.

"Where is he?"

She sobbed again. Jack seemed completely unconscious of his pain. So completely englufed by suffering that he wasn't even aware of anything anymore. But Kate knew she had to answer, and when she couldn't, she simply helped him up- tears openly shedding now- and led him to the hatch.

----

He stumbled with every step so she had to take careful precaution in helping him walk. When they at last entered the hatch they were greeted by Locke, Desmond, Sayid, and- finally- Sawyer, laying helplessly on the couch. The debris had been removed from the area, and the lights were back on, though dim.

"Jack?" Locke inquired, concerned. He took a step towards them. Sayid turned around, assumingly only a casual glance to check on their once missing person, but when he caught sight of Jack's injuries his eyebrows furrowed. Sayid frowned.

"What happened?" Sayid asked. He turned back to Sawyer. Sayid was on the ground, level with Sawyer who lay before him. A needle and thread were in Sayid's hand.

"It doesn't matter," Kate replied. And she didn't know. She led Jack to the couch, with Locke's help- the entire time he was watching Jack, puzzled and obviously wanting to ask questions. Carefully, she helped Jack to the floor beside Sayid. She turned to Sayid. "How is he?"

"I-" Sayid glanced to Jack regretfully.

"What?" She exclaimed, hovering over Jack and Sayid to examine Sawyer's wound. The wound was only half-stitched, a cut outlining where Sayid had accidently torn the skin. "How did that happen?"

"I-" Sayid hesitated. She knew he wasn't the kind to hide the fact that they had made a mistake, but that didn't mean he was proud of it. All through this she hardly noticed that Jack wasn't even looking at the wound but instead staring ahead vacantly. Completely unaware of the situation. But when she noticed Sayid watching Jack, she turned to him. Kate shook his shoulder slightly.

"Jack..." she pleaded.

He shook his head, but still looked as though he belonged to a world far away.

"Here," he offered, reaching to take the needle and thread from Sayid. His voice was hoarse, though there was a sign of conscious as Jack attempted to keep his voice steady.

But Sayid caught sight of Jack's hands and the scrapes and dirt that covered them. Everyone else was watching Jack as well.

"What happened, brother?" Desmond asked from behind them, stiff in concern.

Jack didn't answer. He simply took the needle and thread from Sayid's hands and leaned over Sawyer's wound. But once he was ready to operate, Jack stopped. Kate watched him, biting her lip uncertainly. He was in no condition to do this, she thought. Someone should be taking care of him.

"Jack-" she began again.

"I'm fine." Barely a whisper, barely audible.

"I doubt she needs you lying to her now," Desmond commented.

She wanted to yell at Desmond, tell him that that didn't even matter right now. Though it was obvious Jack was lying to her. Or maybe he was just so accustomed to pain, so obsorbed in suffering he didn't know it from relief. She noticed Jack's hands were shaking.

"Your hands are shaking," Kate announced to Jack, whose white fist were struggling to hold the needle and thread steady. No, he shouldn't be the one to be helping.

"My hands are not shaking," Jack insisted. He was at least conscious of his anger. They all jumped at the cold, harsh tone of his voice. Kate made up her mind.

"Come on," she said, taking hold of the hand that held the needle and thread. He turned to her. Now there was at least some familiararity about him. There was that harsh, warning stare, telling her not to interfere. Yet still that sense of distance, pain, was still within him. Kate ignored him. Swallowing, she glanced to Sawyer who lay still through it all. She swallowed away her tears and turned back to Jack. "Let me take care of you."

She didn't want to leave Sawyer's side, but she was torn. Jack had to help him...she had to fix this. She began to stand, attempting to lift Jack off the ground. A hand fell on her shoulder.

"If Sawyer wakes up he'll want to see you," Locke said.

She choked back a sob. _If_. She didn't want to think about _if_. She wanted to think about how she could stop this. How she could help them both, be there for them both. She considered her options, considered what may happen if Sawyer woke up and she wasn't there. Kate looked down.

"Okay," she agreed sofly. She let go of Jack.

"Come on," she heard Locke encourage, taking Jack's arm. She didn't watch as he led him away, leaving her to fix their mistakes.

Kate looked back to Sawyer. So many months they had gone without so much as falling ill. Why now? As time went on, it had actually began to feel as though it wasn't their destiny to suffer. But maybe it was. Kate bit her lip and looked down at the needled in thread in her hands. No, she decided, it wasn't.

----

He knew he was in pain but he couldn't feel it. He felt frozen, stiff, and in his mind he was still standing in the jungle, waiting for the monster to come. He was still on the ground, shivering in fear. He was being tossed through the air and left for dead.

"I'm sorry," Locke offered as they entered the bathroom. That's where all the medical supplies were, Jack had learned. Though now they looked to be everywhere, all over the floor. Jack just stared at the mess. "We shouldn't have asked for your help." Jack didn't answer.

Locke pulled out a chair that had been sitting in the corner, assumingly for patients. Jack didn't sit down. He couldn't move. If he moved he would only fall. He felt like he had lost all control of his movement, of his mind. That Thing...it had cornerned him, turned him into a coward. Or maybe it had only brought out the essence of truth within him. Fear, helplessness. A coward. Locke began to run water over a towel, watching the water run over his hands grimly as he did. He turned off the water and walked towards Jack. The plumbing, Jack remembered. The water pressure had been low. Kate had turned it off and now...it was on again? But he didn't ask.

Locke grimaced as he brought the towel to Jack's face. He began to wipe away the blood, and all at once Jack felt the pain come back again. He hadn't when Kate touched his cheek, examining the wound with deep sympathy and sorrow. He hadn't when he had been shaken awake, found lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood. It had been as though he still had some of the dead left within him. He had only been shaking away from that darkness from who must of been his guardian angel...and now he was left to recover. Locke frowned.

"There's no handprint," Locke commented, "did they hit you with something?"

Jack found himself answering automatically, though suddenly it hurt to talk:

"Yes."

He would have to lie. He couldn't tell what he had been through, even though he had lay there at death's door, desperately wanting to be forgiven for lying.

"I'm sorry," Locke said once more. He sounded sincere. But Locke frowned once more. "How'd you get away?"

Jack didn't even attempt to answer. The Others would be wondering that as well. But Jack had his own version of the question- why was he alive? Why had he been able to awaken upon Kate's arrivial, when he had felt so close to death? He couldn't answer, only winced in pain as Locke continued to clean the wound on his face.

It was then that Jack realized what was going on. He was only slowly remembering things besides the attack and awakening. He was remembering Kate wanting his help. For Sawyer.

"What happened?" He asked Locke, voice still sore. "To Sawyer?"

Still watching the wound as he cleaned it, Locke replied:

"They shot him."

Simple and honest.

"Why?" Jack asked.

Locke remained silent, not contemplating his answer, but looking surprised at the answer he found.

"Because Sawyer's a good man."

Jack frowned, but immeditely stumbled back in pain. He reached up, curious, and touched his chin. At that one touch his fingers were bloody. Blood covered his arm as well.

"Jack," Locke began, "it's okay that you can't help."

Jack shook his head. He remembered also thinking that he had to come back for the sake of everyone else, to prove that he could be trusted and depened upon.

"No," he said, "no it's not."

"Where are you going?"

He ignored him. He wasn't sure if he'd be successful but he was indeed able to turn around, and at least able to stumble towards the door. Pain erupted within him. Jack grasped the door. He closed his eyes, trying to push the image of the monster away. He had to push it all away. Jack gently released himself from where he had been resting against the door and, slowly and painfully, headed towards where the others were.

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	12. Fidelity

Life Interrupted

Chapter Twelve

**Disclaimer:** "The Way You Want It" is a song by Keane.

**Chapter Twelve:** Fidelity

Jack couldn't remember ever being this nervous about an operation. He could hear Kate's sobs as she fought to contain her emotions, the clear worry as she gripped Sawyer's hand tighter and tighter until the man's knuckles turned white. Jack's hand ligered over Sawyer's stomach as he hesitated to bring down the scalpel again.

"It would help if he had his hand," Jack said, words coming out relucantly as he was forced to take away Kate's only source of comfort. Relucant as well, Kate let go of Sawyer's hand. Her palms were shaking. Jack continued to postpone the operation. "He'll be okay." He turned to Kate. "I promise, Kate, he'll be fine."

Kate shook her head. Her hair hang in front of her eyes in long, sweaty, strands. She was pale and trembling; her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

"Can you just finish the operation?" Kate requested quietly.

Once more Jack hesitated but at last nodded. He went back to tending the wound in Sawyer's stomach. As he worked he thought, considering what he should say to Kate. It was too errie. Kate was just like another...loved one...of a patient he had to save. There would be too many horrible consequences if he were too fail.

"There's a reason they don't let relatives into the operating room," Jack commented, hoping Kate would understand. He worked much better if, somehow, he could block out the desperate looks in the patient's family and friends' eyes. The way they looked ready to break down whenever a doctor simply walked into the waiting room. It was the key to being a good surgeon- forgetting everything but the job at hand. Though a doctor surely wouldn't make a mistake with a wife or son's eyes watching every move they made. In this situation, though, he didn't want Kate there. But she didn't leave.

"What would you say to me?" She said instead, a few moments later, "if I was a...relative...of a patient."

Jack sighed. One thing he knew was that no matter how much he tried to convince her, Kate wouldn't believe that Sawyer would be fine. No matter how much she trusted Jack he would never be able to convince her that she could trust him to do this surgery successfully.

"I would say to you that Sawyer will be fine," Jack said, keeping his patience. He glanced towards Kate. "I promise." He looked back down to Sawyer, sighing. "I've saved him twice, I can save him again."

Suddenly Kate stopped breathing. She looked sick as dread melted into her pale face.

"Third time's the charm, right?" Her voice was barely audible and breaking with every word. Jack was left stunned at the suggestion.

"I want to save him," Jack said. He was being honest. "I swear Kate, I-"

"Just shut up and finish the operation!" Kate exclaimed. Her face collasped into her palms as Kate cried. He had only seen her cry twice, and he knew what it took to make her break down like that. It make him sick to realize that now, all three of those times he had been the cause. Guilt engulfed him. The operation was momentarily forgotten and all he could think of was how he could be there for Kate now, when that answer was really to save Sawyer. Kate had looked so angry, so hurt. Jack finally turned back to Sawyer, but it suddenly made him furious to realize this was the guy Kate was crying over. The selfish thought made him sick, but for that moment he truly hated Sawyer.

Jack shook his head. That was riddiculous. He couldn't be angry at Kate or Sawyer for the fact that she cared about him; and from what he'd heard- and remembered- Kate had sacrificed a fair amount of tears for Jack himself. He swallowed and continued the surgery.

_The tunes and keys came back to him like he had neve stopped playing piano. Song after song he remembered, his fingertips falling gracefully onto the keys as he showed off this skill to no one but the emptiness of the hatch. After the long list of questions about his past and any interest he had, Jack had finally admitted to being able to play the piano fairly well. That was only yesterday, and already when the doctor had led him into the nearly empty hatch he was introduced to a baby grand that sat in the far corner of the room. Jack assumed this was too keep the song further from the door- and for that reason he played as loudly as he could. But he gave up on the revenge when he realized he liked having the piano there. It helped keep his sanity, which he was sure he was slowly losing._

_"You do play well," a voice behind him said, "I'll give you that."_

_A weary smile on his face, Jack continued the song he was playing._

_"Why don't you take a break?" The man suggested._

_Jack stopped playing and turned around. The doctor and the girl- Alex- was standing in their usual spots, by the computers on the other side of the room. _

_"Come on, Zander," Jack said, attempting to sound casual, "not today."_

_Turning back to the piano, Jack continued to play, though he found it harder to concentrate. On instinct he immiediately slipped into a song in a minor key._

_"But we're making progress," Zander argued, "the results are beginning to give us excatly what we need."_

_Again Jack turned around._

_"What results?" Zander didn't answer him. Jack glanced beyond the man and to Dr. Campbell and Alex, who were looking nervous. "What are the questions for?"_

_A moment passed as Jack glanced between the three. At last Zander offered Jack a grim smile._

_"Just to get to know you a little better," he replied. He was lying. He was able to tell when they were lying to him...though he was certain they were never not lying._

_"Just, not today," Jack said again, this time more quietly, as he turned back to the piano. "I don't feel well."_

_The doctor frowned behind him, as did Zander. Dr. Campbell exited the computer station and walked towards where he and Zander were._

_"What's wrong?" The doctor asked._

_Now Jack was the one lying. Of course, every day he woke up with the same head ace, the same feeling that no matter how much he slept- which wasn't much- he would never get enough rest. He just couldn't feel completely well in this place...he didn't feel like he should. But today, more than ever, Jack didn't feel like sitting through hours of Zander's questions about his childhood or what his favorite movies were. It was like Zander was creating some weird friendship, testing to see if Jack fit the role. The questions made Jack feel uneasy and only increased his suspicion of the Others, and he tried to answer in as little detail as possible._

_"I have a headace," Jack replied. He swallowed slowly, as though to signal pain. "My throat hurts. I almost threw up this morning."_

_Alex winced at the details, but the doctor and Zander only looked concerned._

_"Maybe you should give him the day off," Dr. Campbell suggested. Jack tried not to smile._

_"If he's well enough to play the piano then he's well enough to answer questions," Zander said. He sounded angry. _

_"Zander," Dr. Campbell said. He then lowered his voice, as though then Jack wouldn't be able to hear. "Do you really want him answer these questions while he's sick?"_

_Jack listened as Zander contemplated Dr. Campbell's suggestion. He tried not to get his hopes up, but Jack couldn't help but to be hopefull. He remained silent as he awaited Zander's reply._

_"Alright," Zander said, at last. Jack had to bite back a smile. "But I want you to examine him, see what's wrong." Zander sighed. "See if you can have him better by tomorrow...we really don't need to waste time. Make a diagnoses and take him back to his cell."_

_Though it could be seen as pathetic how relieved he was, Jack was sure that anyone in his potition would understand. Before Zander could tie him up he managed to play on last tune on the piano, and secretly he wished the piano would still be there tomorrow._

"Jack!"

Jack had only close his eyes for a moment when the memory came. Now Kate was calling his name and shaking him out of his memory. His eyes snapped open and Jack looked down. He was aware that Kate was watching him as he realized his hands were dancing along the edge of the couch where Sawyer wasn't lying, as though playing a piano.

"Sorry," he muttered. He was almost finished with the surgery, but there was always a risk of something going wrong. While he should have been relieved about the memory- he hadn't remembered anything all day- he was only frustrated. He'd have to consider what he'd learned later, after he saved Sawyer.

"Maybe you should take a break," Kate suggested. Her concern was back. She looked at him, her eyes diverting to his blood-coated face. Jack shook his head.

"I can't just take a break," Jack said. He looked at the progress he was making. The wound was almost sealed shut, the bleeding had stopped. The bullet was out. "But I will be done soon. I need to see whatever antibiotics you have."

Kate nodded but hesitated to leave. Once again her hand fell to Sawyer's and she carefully wrapped her fingers around his palm. Even Jack couldn't get used to the still and quiet way Sawyer had slept during the surgery, as opposed to his usual attitude. His father used to say you never truly knew a person until they were sick, until they needed to depend on someone else to live. Jack had always thought this wasn't fair, because that person did need to depend on someone else to live. It wasn't their choice. But the difference in health and sickness was odd, the way a person changed and became so fragile, both emotionally and phsyically. Yet, in reality, a person was always like that...but when in good health, they could hide those flaws. He gazed to Kate and wondered if she was thinking about this or something else completely. If she had come to believe that Jack could save Sawyer.

"Kate?" He asked. Again he dreaded having to ask her to leave. "Please?"

She nodded and this time stood up. He wanted to apologize for asking her to run this kind of errand, but she was already gone before he had the chance. Jack turned back to Sawyer. Locke said he had been shot because Sawyer 'was a good man'. That was why he was shot on the raft too. Maybe he had a new hope to offer Kate, repeating her own words back to her: third time's a charm. Of course, in a joking way. Jack took a deep breath as he began to finish the surgery.

----

He took a moment to take everything in before he cleaned up: Sawyer's blood on his hands, the new scar on the man's stomach, the mess of medical supplies that cluttered the hatch's living room floor...which was still handling the effects of the latest hatch incident. The room was a mess as furniture, aside from the couch, was tossed to its side. Books, records, and other odds and ends were thrown about. Darkness generally lit the way throughout the hatch except where a few emergancy lights had survived. Jack sighed. And he still hadn't been to the beach. He trusted Sayid and Locke had things under control there. But of course they did, they had to be leaders for nine months. Snapping out of his daze, Jack began to get to his feet so he could begin cleaning up. Sawyer would wake up sometime that night, and it would be like experiencing a nightmare that plagued his dreams over and over again.

Just as he was getting to his feet a person appeared by his side, knealing to the ground. A hand fell beside Sawyer. He expected to turn to see Kate, but instead Juliet was there. Her blonde hair, long and tangled, fell to the floor as she gazed to Sawyer.

"How is he?" She asked quietly.

Jack stared at her. She had spoken as simply as though she were just another castaway. She didn't even know Sawyer- as far as he knew- and yet she looked honestly concerned.

"You can't be in here," Jack said. They had forgotten about her. Deep down, Jack knew that if that were possible, she couldn't have been all that evil.

Juliet turned to Jack. Their eyes met, and guilt immediatley rushed through him, as though she could control his emotions. He couldn't find it in him to repeat his words. Her face was pale, a sickly white layer of skin that sank into her bones. Her eyes sunk into her skin as well, dark circles that weren't bruises colored the skin beneath them. These couldn't just be the consequences of being held in the hatch. Her appearance actually matched his own, especially when he had first returned.

And then, unpredictably, a smile broke out across Juliet's face. He watched, confused, as the smile lingered, as though she truly enjoyed the feeling of amusement.

"You two are just meant to be, aren't you?" She teased. "You saving him? Even after all this time..." She laughed to herself. Jack didn't find this amusing. He didn't understand what she was trying to do, or prove. She knew about him, obviously, but that didn't mean she knew him...understood him. But it shook him to hear her talking about him like she knew him, like they were relatives laughing over memories at the latest family dinner. He didn't know nearly as much about her, only how terrified she looked when she was afraid. Yet somehow, he felt like he should continue the comic relief. Maybe he could even learn a little more.

"That smile looks good on you," he commented. The compliment was sincere, but it didn't occur to him to worry about letting his guard down. An odd feeling was suddenly coming over him, old emotions he didn't understand.

But the comment only made Juliet's smile fade. She looked to the ground as the grin lingered only in sadness.

"I haven't smiled in..." she shook her head, as though she didn't want to say it, or believe it. But suddenly her smile was back. "Except this one time, sorta recently. You told some story about this duck that wanted to play baseball. He didn't realize they weren't letting him play shortstop because of his skills but because-"

"He was so short," Jack said, finishing the story with Juliet in unison. He grinned. He knew that story. "My father used to tell me that story...back when I thought it was funny."

This time, Juliet's true smile lingered.

"Well," she proclaimed, "I thought it was funny."

Jack smiled back, holding her gaze until the moment passed. They looked away as the darkness of the situation came back. Guilt even found its way back to Jack as he realized he had enjoyed the comic relief as well.

"I'm glad you two are friends again. Maybe you guys can go to the movies tomorrow after all."

He winced at Kate's hurt voice. He wondered how long she had been standing there. He couldn't turn towards her; he let her approach them, sitting the box of medicine on the floor near them. But his plan to ignore her failed as she hesitated to leave. He looked to her, but her eyes were diverted to the floor.

"Thanks for inviting me," she whispered.

"Kate-" he began, standing up as she turned away.

"Sorry Jack!" Kate shouted, eyes swelling as her voice rose. Betrayel painted fire in her eyes. "I really am pleased that you are just so happy right now!"

She brought a hand to her face, acting as though she were trying to keep her patience; but she was really hiding tears. Jack wasn't happy. He was anything but. In fact, the need for comic relief meant there was a darker emotion that needed the relief. That darker motion was returning quickly- guilt. Along with pain, worry.

"It's not like that," he insisted.

"Don't talk to me!" Kate cried. She was hardly able to manage not having a break down. "I completely understand...you've known her longer, right?" She was glaring at Juliet now with almost as much hatred as she had had towards the Others. It was as though nothing else could have convinced Kate that Juliet was an Other more than witnessing her being able to make Jack smile.

"It's not like that," Jack said again. "I finished the surgery, Kate-"

"Then why aren't you taking care of Sawyer?"

Jack didn't respond. She stared at him, daring him to argue. Instead of defending himself Jack looked down to his hands, to the blood that stained them. He was admitting defeat. He understood her anger, the misunderstanding. He also understood that the last thing she needed now was for him to fight to prove her wrong.

"Okay," Jack said. He turned to Juliet, meeting her eyes once more. He tried to apologize without speaking. "Come on."

He began walking towards the armory, though lingering a few paces to make sure he didn't get there before she did. He hoped she'd understand, not to mention it was an unrealistic idea that he would have let her stay out in the living room to begin with. Eventually Jack knew he would have been force to lock her back up. But Jack was realizing...he remembered her being in the room, practically a cell, with him. Wouldn't that mean she wasn't one of the Others? Jack took a deep breath as he ushered Juliet inside. He was beginning to trust her, whether he liked it or not, and it was obivous that she trusted him. Before he closed the door, Jack studied Juliet a moment before saying:

"You didn't try to escape."

She could have been long gone if she had wanted to. Yet she had stayed and even talked to Jack, risking being taken captive again.

"I'm not going anywhere," Juliet replied. Jack couldn't help but to smile a little...she almost sounded too desperate to get him to trust her. She looked to the ground; she was already seated again beside the fallen shelf. Then she added quietly: "Not without you."

Jack's eyes widened. His grin faded. Juliet stared at the floor like this would make her sink away. He took a step towards her.

"What?" He tried to keep calm. He tried not to panic. Juliet tried not to cry.

"I'm sorry," she pleaded. She looked to him, eyes already rimmed red from wanting to cry. "I told you, I've been locked up for the past year. I just...I need freedom. You don't even know me anyway..."

She looked sick, but Jack was still able to be angry. He had to keep himself from shouting; he reminded himself he still had the advantage. What she was saying didn't mean anything except that it confirmed his suspicion. Jack realized he actually felt betrayed...he had begun to trust her. Yet it didn't make sense...were the memories false? Had the Others placed them in his mind? But it didn't look like he was going to get any answers: Juliet wasn't offering any more explanation.

"What are you talking about?" Jack finally asked.

Juliet swallowed. She had already let her eyes fall back to the floor. She looked afraid again.

"After we escaped," she began. She swallowed again. He wondered if she was used to talking this much. From her comments earlier about the story- that feeling of comic relief was long gone- their conversations were few and far between. "You were able to run, but...they caught me. And because you were the one they really wanted all along, they offered me a deal. Your freedom for mine."

Now Jack looked away. He didn't know whether to feel angry or sympathetic. Juliet clearly jumped on every chance of freedom- a term she used a lot- that she got. But she knew what he had gone through...how was it she was so quickly able to turn him back to the Others? But then again, why would she have wanted to put herself back in that situation? One line in particular had struck him odd, though: '...because you were the one they wanted all along'.

"Why are you telling me this?" Jack wasn't sure if Juliet was the kind of person who would actually answer questions. From experience, she would usually coopercate. Jack wondered if this was on instinct, learned from her past with the Others. "Are you giving up, or-"

She looked to him. Her eyes were stained from tears.

"I changed my mind," she said. Hope swam through him, though he wasn't exactly sure what he was worried about. He was careful, he wasn't just going to let Juliet take him back to the Others. "I think together we can work out some kind of plan, some way to keep us both safe."

Jack studied her. He wasn't convinced.

"How do I know you're not lying?" He challenged, though not in a forceful way. He wanted to know how he could begin to trust her again. He wanted to be relieved to find out that everyone he had ever known wasn't out to get him.

"Because I'm not."

She sounded like she was having to control anger, or possibly impatience. But he had observed Juliet to be someone who was gracefully able to deal with patience. She was becoming anxious, like freedom was a food she had gotten a taste of tonight and fell in love with.

"I'll talk to some people," Jack offered, "but I can't promise anything. Don't get your hopes up.

Juliet smiled sadly.

"Hope's all I have," she looked up to him, no sign of regret on her face. Jack nodded and closed the door behind him as he left the armory. He knew that nothing he said would take that hope away, and this would only make his job harder.

----

Kate was sitting on the floor when he returned to the living room, going through the box of medicine. There wasn't much.

"Is this all you have?" Jack asked, surprised at what little medicine was there. Kate nodded.

"All the food drop brought us were those injections," she said, "there's a closet full of them in the other room."

Jack sighed and sat on the floor near her. He began to look through the box. There were mainly head ace medicine; pills to make stomach aches and fevers go away quickly. Nothing that would be strong enough to truly help Sawyer. He thought of his memories and the doctor's office that seemed full of any medical necessity. How were the people in the Swan supposed to treat their injuries and illnesses? Those people were down there for years at a time...it could be assumed that at some point they'd catch a cold or maybe even sprain an ankle. He should be talking to Desmond...maybe there was something they missed before. But for now, he grabbed a few medicine bottles.

"Is there anymore at the beach?" Jack asked. He stood up and placed the bottles on a table next to the couch.

Kate considered his question.

"Sayid might have some," she said, "or Locke. Or...you're not going down there, are you?"

She stood up. Jack hesitated...it would still be dark. The Others were still out there, surely looking for him. And the monster...the thought made Jack shudder. No, he didn't want to go but he had to. He could only hope the monster wouldn't realize its latest victim was still alive. Jack could still hear Its screams as It tried to murder him.

"Jack?" Kate's concern shook him from his memory. He turned to her.

"Yeah," he said, with no enthusiasm to have to contain.

She followed him as he walked towards the exit.

"But what about Sawyer?" She said. "If he wakes up, you'll need to be here!"

Jack stopped. He sighed. She was right...but he couldn't send Kate out there.

"I'll go," she said. She attempted to walk past him, but he grabbed her arm to stop her.

"No," he said, "It-" he stopped himself when he realized what he was about to say, but Kate had obviously noticed. Jack tried to pull himself together. "They're still out there."

She stared at him, searching his eyes as though looking for further explanation. Pulling herself away from his grip, Kate gazed back towards the living room. He waited for her reply; he had nothing more he wanted to say.

"I'll go," Jack insisted, "I'll send Sayid back to check on Sawyer." He waited for her to look back up to him, and finally their eyes locked. "I promise."

Kate hesitated a moment before nodding, letting him go.

----

"Sayid!" Jack called as he approached the beach, spotting Sayid's tent. Glancing around the camp, he noticed that most were still up, sitting quietly, looking paralyzed as they stared into fires. None moved upon his arrival. Not even to ask questions or for explanation. Jack tried not to appear offended; he remembered when they would have rushed to be the first to be able to ask a question.

Sayid stepped out of his tent.

"Aren't people trying to sleep?" Sayid hissed. Jack glanced back towards the camp.

"No."

Sayid sighed, but he wasn't irrated with Jack but frustrated with himself.

"I'm sorry," Sayid said, "they're afraid. The Others are back, and some say they heard the monster."

"I guess I'm not exactly someone they were hoping to see," Jack said lightly, though he knew this was true. He was a target. Hell, he had just escaped from Them and the monster. He was putting everyone at risk by being here, and Jack knew he should be leaving soon.

"Was there something you needed?" Sayid asked.

Jack nodded.

"Do you have any drugs?" He asked. "Medication, pills, anything that could help Sawyer?"

Sayid shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he said, "most of what I have is in the hatch as well, and I assume you've already looked there."

Jack nodded and tried not to look disapointed. He remembered why he had come to Sayid in the first place.

"I was going to ask Desmond about that," he said, "would you mind going down to the hatch? I told Kate you could-"

Sayid offered him a smile.

"Of course," he said, already beginning to head that way.

Turning, Jack watched him leave the camp. He wondered if he should have warned him about the Others. But Sayid seemed well aware of the danger they were in. He sighed and realized he had no idea where Desmond's camp was.

_He felt so cold, so shaken, that he couldn't think. All he could do was sit against the wall, trying to concentrate on nothing. His eyes were rimmed red, not from tears, but of a severe lack of sleep. His head felt like hundreds of tiny bugs were crawling through his brains, shaking every nerve. He was sore for no particular reason whatsover. He knew that Juliet was watching him and was probably concerned. He was just waiting for her to ask..._

_"Are you okay?"_

_And there it was._

_"Yeah," Jack lied, his voice dry and sore. He needed water..._

_"Are they coming soon?" She asked. She sounded afraid, but he didn't know what she had to be afraid of. He was the one they came for. Jack turned away, dread washing through him, making him feel more nausiated then ever. He couldn't go today, not in his condition. He'd probably throw up on someone's shoes...not that they wouldn't deserve it. "Maybe you should ask for the day off."_

_A painful laugh escaped him._

_"I'm not working for them," Jack said. Amused, he turned back towards Juliet. "And I'm fine."_

_Hoping she wouldn't say anything else, Jack didn't say anymore. His throat was sore. It hurt to talk, to breathe. He wasn't fine, he was sick. Very sick..._

_He coughed, and his chest exploded in pain. Fighting to control the coughs, Jack tried to ignore Juliet's concerned stare._

_"I thought you said you were fine."_

_He was afraid to turn to her. He just felt so miserable..._

"Did you need something?" He distantly heard Desmond's voice within his memory. Even now, Jack was confused. He had only been faking illness. But he had gotten so sick... "Did you need anything, brother?"

At the second question Jack's head snapped up, and he realized he was standing in front of Desmond. People nearby were looking at him, both curious and fearful. Mostly fearful.

"I-" Jack studdered as he recalled why he needed to be here. Ironically, it seemed like he needed medication in his memory as well. "In the hatch...was there any kind of emergancy kit? With medicine or anything for major injuries or illnesses?"

At least Desmond seemed to be honestly considering the question, though he looked slightly irritated that Jack, the camp outcast, had come to him for help.

"Not really," Desmond said. Then his eyes widened. "But Kelvin had his stash of sleeping pills."

"Where are those?" Jack inquired.

Desmond hesitated. Not out of respect for Kelvin's memory, but because these pills were obviously something he was relucant to give away. Finally he disapeared into his tent, reappearing after a moment with a teddy bear. Jack's eyebrows furrowed as he watched Desmond reach into a tear in the stuff animal's fur and pull out a bottle of sleeping pills. It was full, so Jack assumed Desmond had more. Desmond handed Jack the pills, but his hand lingered in the air a moment before giving them up.

"You owe me," Desmond muttered.

"These are for Sawyer," Jack explained, defending himself.

"Whatever."

That was all Desmond said before disapearing back into his tent for good. Jack only remained standing, confused. Desmond hadn't seemed that much opposed to Jack's return in the beginning. Had the Other's presence changed that? As Jack turned back around, he received his answer from the looks on everyone's faces: yes. Swallowing, he tried to ignore this. They wouldn't understand, he should have known.

"I'm not one of them," he announced. None of the faces changed. Jack felt nervous, being the center of attention. Especially when his words seemed to have no affect. Even Hurley was looking uncertain, though at least he seemed to be considering what Jack was saying.

He didn't say anything else. Walking passed them, Jack began the trip back to the hatch. Even though he hadn't fully regained his memory and knew very little of his captivity, he did know that they would never understand.

----

The jungle was darker than he could ever remember it being. He couldn't see his path. Stumbling, Jack tried to follow the moonlight, but shadows betrayed him. He was lost on the most simplest path he knew. In his mind he was hearing caughing, hoarse, rough struggles for breath. It was himself that was struggling. Then he heard himself breathing hard, panicing, as the monster came closer and closer. It was coming to the trees. He could be running, but he...

"Jack?"

Jack blinked at Kate's voice. She was right in front of him. He looked around. Suddenly the world wasn't so disoriented. The jungle was dark, but not as dark as he had originally thought. He could see moonlight and through that light he could see the worried look on Kate's face.

"Are you okay?" She asked him, taking a step closer.

He remembered she wasn't supposed to be out here. The Others were out here.

"What are you doing out here?" He demanded, angry that she betrayed her word.

"I realized you were out there with Them," Kate explained, "and you didn't have one of these."

She pulled out a gun and handed it to him. Jack stared at the weapon as he excepted it, realizing she was right. He also realized it had been over nine months since he had last held a gun. One of the horrific aspect of being held prisoner must have been to have to provide for his own safety, without the help of weapons.

"Thanks," he said quietly. He felt shaken, as though his own pain and memories were coming back to haunt him.

Kate hadn't turned away yet, and she still looked concerned. Jack diverted his eyes to hide himself from her gaze, even though he realized she was one of the first to look at him without terror in their eyes or even hatred. He felt the need to hide, to not have to explain what was really going on.

"Come on," Kate said quietly. She turned to lead him to the hatch. He had half expected her to ask him her question again, pressuring him to admit that no, he was not okay. But she must've known this would have only led to further denial...though also to a confirmation of her concern. And for that, Jack was grateful.

----

When they entered the hatch it was silent, but Jack soon found he was right in assuming that Sayid had made it there safely. Sayid was waiting for them when they entered the living room, a paniced look on his face. Jack's eyes fell to Sawyer, and he knew Kate was looking the same direction. Sawyer's eyes were open.

"When did he wake up?" Jack inquired, walking towards the couch.

"A few minutes ago," Sayid replied, following Jack, "at first he was hallucinating, but now I think he's only in pain."

So in pain that Sawyer couldn't move or speak. He simply looked toward the ceiling, only diverting his eyes when Jack knealed over him. Kate stood behind him, hand raised to her mouth. She looked horrified, sick. And he knew, guilty.

"What's happening?" Kate whispered, only able to force out the words in fear for Sawyer.

Suddenly Sawyer began caughing, simular to his own struggle for breath he heard in his head only moments earlier.

"What's happening?" Sawyer echoed, just as silently, but with a far rougher edge to his voice.

"You're fine," Jack told him. He reached for some of the pain medicine.

"What's that?" Sawyer asked, his eyes following Jack as he poured the right amount of medication out.

"It's for the pain," Jack said. Sawyer looked neither relieved nor grateful. In fact, he turned his head when Jack tried to give him the medicine.

"I can't..." he muttered, shaking his head.

"Yes you can," Jack encouraged, "Sawyer, you need-"

Screams of pain interrupted him. Sawyer clutched the wound at his stomach while one hand gripped the couch. Kate looked as though she might be sick but rushed to Sawyer's side anyway. Reaching over him, she grabbed the hand that had been holding onto the couch. Whether he noticed or not, Kate's knuckles soon began to turn white.

"This will pass," Jack promised, though he wasn't sure who he was talking to.

"It's okay," Kate was saying to Sawyer, quietly, comfortingly; ignoring Jack, "you're okay..."

But just as Jack promised, Sawyer's screams came to an immediate hault, though Jack swore they left an echo in the hatch. Kate didn't let go of Sawyer's hand but only stared at him, looking more shocked than relieved.

"What happened?" She whispered.

"He should have taken the medication," Jack said. He didn't mean for that to be his answer, but the misunderstood force of his voice and effort when he sat the medication down must have suggested this. Only now did Kate stan up, willing to face Jack, angry.

"Now this is his fault?" She exclaimed as she got to his feet. Jack didn't answer. "Did you ever consider that maybe you're just a bad doctor?"

"Kate-"

She stopped at Sayid's warning, though he couldn't know if she really wanted to. Jack didn't know how to answer her. He never knew how to answer a relative or loved one when they insulted him like this. Because he had no proof that any defense was correct, not in the immediate shock of something this serious and frightening happening. Sometimes even afterwards. Sometimes no record of successful surgeries could excuse the loss of one patient...never could they.

"He's alive, Kate," he finally replied. He had attempted to be reassuring, but Kate turned away from him nonetheless. Perhaps she was just realizing this. She fell back to Sawyer's side, taking his hand once more. Sawyer's eyes were closed again. Nothing but pained breaths came from him as he slept.

"How many more times will that happen?" She asked quietly. She was clearly relucant to have to go back to him for help.

He could only reply honestly:

"I don't know."

Kate laughed at first, the quiet chuckle echoing through the hatch as Sawyer's screams had before. Then the tears came. Quickly and openly Kate began to break down, sobbing as everything that was going on took its toll on her. Jack wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but he honestly did not know if that was what she wanted. But he could at least give her the respect of not standing back and watching as the tears came, quicker and more violently than ever. He turned away, heading towards the bathroom.

----

_He began caughing again. He was laying on the floor, clutching it, as though he could glue himself to it. He was going to be sick...Juliet screaming in the background didn't help...but she was screaming for help._

----

_"I'll be honest with you, Jack," Dr. Campbell said, "I questioned your honesty yesterday. But now I see that I was wrong, and for that, I am sorry."_

_Frankly Jack didn't care. He had assumed they were curious, but when he wasn't questioned, Jack didn't ask. But now he just wished he would be allowed to rest, to take in the relief of the medicine that he had been given. It was working, though Jack still felt nausiated. He didn't understand...all the symptoms he had lied about the day before had hit him first: the head aces, stomach aces, being sick, and then the illness only became worse. He had a fever so strong he felt like he was on fire. But randomly he would just as much feel as though he'd been thrown into ice._

_Dr. Campbell crossed his arms over his chest and, with an honestly concerned face, said:_

_"You have a fever of 101."_

_Groaning, Jack rolled his head over. He lay in the cot in the Other's doctor's office, though he had heard rumors about him being moved to some kind of medical station. Jack sighed, though his throat hurt. He didn't want to think. He didn't want to travel. He wanted to sleep..._

_"You're not going anywhere for a few days," Dr. Campbell added._

_Yesterday Jack might have let a smile slip here...but today, Jack just closed his eyes, trying not to cough._

Jack let out a cough, wincing as, at the same time, the string attatched to his face tried to tear at his skin. The wound on his face needed stitches, and he had already put it off as long as he could. Now most of the blood was gone, and all he had to do was apply the stitches. The task proved to be much more complicated than originally thought. He had too much on his mind...and he could still hear Kate in the living room, crying. Even more so now that someone was opening the bathroom door. Sayid walked in.

"A closed door means nothing to you?" Jack snapped.

"You took some of the medical supplies with you," Sayid explained. He remained quiet, only watching as Jack continued to stitch his own wound. "If you're successful with that I will admit that you're the best doctor I know."

Jack snorted, remembering what Kate had said to before: _'Did you ever consider that maybe you're just a bad doctor?' _She'd said it with such force and emotion...the insult couldn't have just been a product of the moment. But Jack didn't push the subject and neither did Sayid. A few moments later he finished stitching the wound and set the needle down, relieved. He looked at the bloody towel on the counter and the blood in the sink. As he began to clean up, he thought about Juliet's request.

"Can I ask you something?" Jack asked Sayid as he turned on the sink. He began to wash the blood from his hands.

"Of course," Sayid said. He closed the door a little, as to not be overheard.

Jack turned to him but hesitated before continuing. He thought about Kate, who had been hurt when she saw Jack and Juliet talking eariler. How was he ever going to convince others to believe him? He was possibly even trusting Juliet too quickly himself.

"Juliet wants to go after the Others."

He looked down, afraid to see Sayid's reaction to what must have sounded like a riddiculous suggestion. It was ideas like these that made one question the ability of a leader.

"Why would she want to do that?" Sayid inquired.

Jack sighed. He almost wished he hadn't asked...but he had made a promise to Juliet. Not to mention revenge against the Others wasn't the last idea on his agenda.

"She said she'd made a deal with them," Jack began, ready to finish quickly, knowing Sayid wouldn't like what he was about to say, "my freedom for hers. But she changed her mind and said we could work together-"

"Work together?" Sayid repeated, almost in a mocking way. "With one of them?"

"She's not one of them!" Jack exclaimed. He stopped. Sayid stared at him, suspicious.

"How do you know?" Sayid challenged.

"I think we can trust her," Jack said, "she's not one of them."

Jack had chose to answer him right away, say anything, so that he wouldn't hesitate...make himself so obvious.

"How do you know?" Sayid said again. He was not only unconvinced, he was angry. Jack was angry too.

"How did you know Zander was one of them?" Jack shot.

He stopped quickly. He looked horrified, and Sayid hadn't missed a beat.

"Is that Henry's real name?" Sayid asked slowly. He took a step towards Jack, and Jack realized that soon he could be locked up in the armory with Juliet. Any sign of anyone being an Other, and the castaways didn't take it as a grain of salt. Even if Jack appeared to know anything about them, Sayid wouldn't leave it alone. "How do you know this?"

Jack realized the lie had been quite simple.

"She told me."

Sayid studied him for a moment, but at last his glare lightened. Jack held back a sigh of relief.

"Whether she's one of them or not, her plan could work," Jack said as he realized this himself. Now Sayid looked interested. "They're expecting her, so we go back to the line, pretending like she's taking me back as her captive. The whole camp shouldn't be there, so if a few of us go, we could hide-"

"And simply jump out of the bushes when they come?" Jack didn't answer. That had been their plan before, and it had worked. "We've dealt with them before, you have no idea-"

"I know about them!" Jack shouted. Whether he remembered them or not, he couldn't agree with what Sayid was suggesting. "I know they held me captive for nine months and did something that took my memory away. Don't tell me I don't know what they're like!"

Sayid seemed to become more sympthatetic. Jack was glad.

"I know this doesn't seem like the best plan," Jack admitted, "but we can't keep her locked in there forever."

"They're more angry at us than ever," Sayid pointed out, "after whatever happened...this is why they shot Sawyer!"

"They're always going to be mad at us," Jack said, "as long as we're here, on their island, they're going to be mad at us."

"Then they should let us go."

He was almost surprised at Sayid's argument. He sounded openly desperate, helpless. Jack wasn't even sure how to continue their debate. Sayid seemed ready to give up. Any risk of danger, even if it meant a possible defeat, wasn't worth it to these people anymore. Jack was really feeling out of place; he felt the length of time he had been gone. These people had changed, without him. Because of him.

"Just consider it," Jack said, "after all, we have the one thing they don't."

Sayid eyed him curiously.

"What's that?" He inquired.

"Me."

The reaction on Sayid's face told him he was finally making progress.

----

_From the shelter of your home_

_As you walk into the rain_

_Send a messge that you know she'll hear_

_Though she's so far away_

The living room was silent when he enetered it again. Jack considered going to Kate, but he stopped when he spotted her: silent, completely lost in thought as she gazed at Sawyer, though he was sure she wasn't fully conscious of doing so. She was really looking at memories, hope; he could see it in her eyes. He didn't dare interrupt such a peaceful moment, so he headed straight for the armory, ready to tell Juliet Sayid's answer.

_Even though you have been wrong before_

_She'll hear you now_

_You know she will_

_But you don't know how_

But when he reached Kate he stopped, hesitating. But she didn't turn to him or acknowledge his presence. At last he decided to keep his word, simply brushing a hand against her shoulder. When she turned he was already gone.

_From the shelter of the rain_

_As you walk into the tube_

_As you think of her you wonder if_

_She thinks about you to_

It was dark; peaceful. They paniced when they had heard the monster in the distance, but in the end Alex and Pickett could only be happy for their freedom from the Others. She was asleep now, he thought, but he didn't see how. He had so much on his mind, so much to worry about.

"Alex?" He called into the night.

No answer. She was laying on the ground across from him, on the other side of the fire, asleep. They didn't have to worry about anyone spotting the flames; they were no one's enemy. Pickett sighed. But this also meant he really did have the responsibility for caring for a teenage girl, with no other help if he needed it. He was honestly terrified...he didn't want to ruin this girl's life more than he had already.

_Even though you've waited so long_

_To see the day_

_When she will turn to you again_

_So long my friend_

_Is what you'll say_

Zander sat in the empty hatch. Even the computer stations were empty: there was no purpose. Everything he had worked for was useless. This hadn't been just another experiment...this had been the most important experiment he had ever conducted.

"We just let the angel of death waltz right out the door," Zander announced miserably.

Dr. Campbell looked slightly amused from where he stood.

"Most people would be relieved of that," he pointed out. Zander wasn't relieved. He was terrified. The angel of death was very underestimated...and very helpful. And now she was gone. Dr. Campbell sighed. "She didn't see a date. For all she knew it was years from now."

He looked didn't look offended as he turned to the doctor, but afraid. He had stopped hiding that emotion a long time ago, at least in front of the select few who knew about the experiment. Including the angel of death.

"She knows I'm going to die," Zander said. He turned away, staring staright ahead. This was what they had assumed...because Alex had been right about this kind of thing before. She didn't see things, visions of the people dying- no, he could protect from that. But she still knew, but now the lack of detail was becoming a threat. As was the lack of hope.

But he had let Alex go. And as a man of his word, Zander had to keep that promise.

_And I don't know_

_Why you feel so bad_

_Where is the life you once had_

_And still this horrid feeling grows and grows_

_The way you want it to_

"Walt!"

Walt turned, his heart leaping at the sound of his father's voice. He was running towards him, relieved, though his voice was of disaproval.

"Dad!" Walt exclaimed, running to meet his father. Walt jumped into his arms, grinning broadly. Michael was grinning as well. It was a full moment before he released himself from his father's embrace, itching to ask the question on his mind: "So when are we going home?"

Michael offered him a smile, though obviously exhausted.

"Soon, man," he promised.

Walt smiled back, but only for a minute. Because one thought had haunted him all through this plan.

"What about everyone else?"

The first time they'd escaped, his father had assured him they could find rescue from everyone else. But he couldn't feel relieved, even as his father promised him again:

"We'll rescue them too."

_Even though you've waited so long_

_To see the day_

_When she will turn to you again_

_So long my friend _

_Is what you'll say_

He could feel Kate's eyes on him as he entered the armory. Juliet was there, waiting for him, but he couldn't speak right away. He admittedly felt guilty. Maybe walking away wasn't what she wanted...or needed. He should have stayed with her...but she looked so peaceful without him.

"So what did he say?" Juliet asked when he remained silent. She looked worried upon seeing his expression, full of regret, but even so he could sense the hope permanately within her.

_And I don't know_

_Why you feel so bad_

_Where is the life you once had_

_And still this horrid feeling grows and grows_

_The way you want it to_

"He agreed."

Jack didn't look to her, didn't even acknowledge her reaction or his gratefulness that Sayid had agreed to the plan. He didn't feel like plotting against the Others was what he should be doing right now. But Juliet didn't feel that way. She broke out into a grin, even letting out a laugh. Jumping up, she threw her arms around him.

_You're a fool though_

_Why do you feel so bad_

_Where is the life you once had_

_And still this hollow feeling grows and grows_

_The way you want it to_

She lingered there for a minute, resting her cheek against his shoulder. She was crying tears of joy. He managed a small smile and wrapped his arms around her, but he still only half-heartily felt the relief she did. What would Kate think of the plan? Of him once again putting his life at risk of the Others? But if they were successful, if things could only be normal again...

"Thank you," Juliet whispered. She held him for a moment longer before letting out another laugh. She let go of him, backing away. He was certain she was the only person smiling that night.

"We leave first thing in the morning," Jack informed her. He only hear himself speak the words, only half conscious he was doing so.

Suddenly Juliet's smile was gone.

"No!" She said, horrified. "Tonight. It has to be tonight...they'll still be close!"

He knew she was right, but he also knew chaning the plan might be difficult. Nevertheless, there was hardly any emotion in his voice when he replied:

"I'll see what I can do."

She stared at him, obivously noticing how distant he was being. Jack offered her a half-smile but turned to leave.

"Jack," she said before he could leave. He turned to her. "Really, thank you."

He nodded but he still left. He didn't feel like celebrating, he wasn't even thinking of going back to talk to Sayid. He wanted to talk to Kate. So once more he entered the living room, preparing his apology, reassurance, comfort. But when he found the room again, he realized his efforts were proven useless. Kate was sitting in the floor, back against the couch, one hand still clutching one of Sawyer's hands. She was asleep.

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the reviews! If anyone's developing any early theories as to what's happening in Jack's flashbacks, and are confused because I said they had nothing to do with what's going on in the show, I'll tell you I'm still keeping my word. If anything happens in the show that happens in here it's simply coincidence, unless I mention otherwise. But, really, even the whole death thing(which I never realized the simularities until now) was planned a long time ago. But I'm glad you guys like the story, and thank you for reading, and thank you for reviewing!

Until next time...

October Sky


	13. Revenge

Life Interrupted

Chapter Thirteen

**Chapter Thirteen: **Revenge

She woke up surprisingly a good while later. He caught her out of the corner of his eye as her eyes fluttered open, confused. Then she gripped Sawyer's hand, in shock, and realized where she was. Jack watched as Kate turned around, as if to make sure Sawyer was really there. She turned to Jack.

"Did he wake up?" She inquired, quickly and worried.

"No," Jack reassured her, "not since before." She sighed in relief. Sawyer sleeping was probably a good thing...it was better than him having to deal with the pain. With few medicine left, Jack was having to make decisions on rationing. And with so much medicine gone, he wondered exactly what happened while he was gone.

Kate sat in silence as she watched Sawyer sleep. After sleeping herself Kate looked better than she did before, more relaxed. She looked ready to accept that everything was okay now. She even looked guilty, but Jack couldn't bring himself to say anything about what she said to him. He tried to understand her situation but even so, he couldn't help but to feel betrayed. He watched Kate for a moment, wondering what she was thinking. She took a deep breath, and Jack was sure she'd caught him, but she only said:

"So what happens now?" Honestly looking to him for guidance. But then he realized it must be only on medical terms.

"He'll have to pull through," Jack said, "it's all on him to get back to health...but he'll do fine."

Kate smiled, grateful. But then she looked regretful of speaking up, perhaps because she realized she owed him something. Jack didn't want to press her for an apology because he thought she was wrong; he only wanted to hear that she didn't think that of him. He wanted to have her trust.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you," she said. He was taken aback by her seeming to have read his mind, but he was relieved. He couldn't admit that, though, he only wanted to hold that relief secretly, as something to reassure himself of. Within this whole situation, Jack knew that he was in no place to put the spotlight on his own issues.

"You're handling this better than anyone could ask," Jack assured her- he was being honest- "and if you think you're making a mistake, just know that there's no right way to handle this. You love him and..." his voice slipped and Jack recovered as Kate looked shocked at what he'd said, "we all understand."

She looked down and it was his only sign that she had listened. She didn't dare to reply, and he didn't dare to ask her to. He didn't think he lied to her, and he was even relieved at his response. If this was how Kate wanted to react then, like he said, he expected nothing more.

Suddenly Sawyer's hand closest to them stretched and closed, as though he was trying to grab onto something. Kate quickly placed her palm in his, feeling the vacancy. Jack turned away quickly to pull himself together, knowing he'd have to deal with this. When he turned back Sawyer's eyes were opening, already landing on Kate. She smiled, too relieved to speak. Jack spoke up for her.

"The bullet's out," Jack told him, "the bleeding stopped, and you're okay." He offered Sawyer a smile and wondered if he should leave now. But Kate looked too overwhelmed and Sawyer too confused. Jack realized he was at liberty to reassure them both. "Locke said you were shot because you were a good man. So I guess whatever happened, I guess we should thank you for your bravery...though whatever you did was probably stupid."

At this Sawyer turned to Kate, looking to her for explanation. Jack also realized there was something these two knew that he didn't; but he didn't ask and let them speak with their eyes,. He tried to ignore the fact that they were hiding something from him. Possibly something important. Jack shook his head and stood up.

"Hey," he stopped at Sawyer's voice, weak and hoarse. Jack turned to look at him, meeting the honesty in his eyes. "Thanks."

Kate nodded in agreement. She was clearly on the verge of tears and fighting to hold herself together. He could only leave knowing she wanted to be able to be with Sawyer now.

"Jack!" He turned as Sayid ran into the room. The man stopped, quickly taking in the scene he'd walked into before explaining: "There's something you need to see."

----

Sayid explained as he led Jack through the jungle. It was becoming light now, the night already past. When he was inside the hatch, it already seemed like days ago when the monster had pinned him against death. Though it felt like the memory should be fresh, it was becoming another haunting moment of the past. As soon as he stepped into the jungle, this changed. The fresh air engulfed him, and Jack felt like choking. He blinked in the sun and shivered as the slightest breeze hit him. He swore he heard the monster coming for him. Desperately he glanced around the jungle; nothing was there.

"Locke found them while he was looking for the new food drop," Sayid was telling him, "he was able to catch them off guard and capture them. He thinks they were out here looking for something."

After becoming conscious of the fact he was being talked to, Jack sank with realization.

"Me," he said, and Sayid nodded before stopping and turning to him.

Of course, the monster didn't want them...they were able to run. But that didn't mean they couldn't come back. He didn't understand how they couldn't be afraid, but perhaps the monster was only looking for Jack himself as well.

"I don't have to bring you into this," Sayid said, "it could even be a risk."

He shook his head. He couldn't lose this opportunity. Anticipation was already eating him away, along with an anxious need to know who these people were. To finally be able to match memory to physical truth.

"Where are they?" Jack asked.

Sayid studied him, looking doubtful. But Jack was so obviously willing to be apart of this that Sayid finally turned, leading him further into the jungle.

----

_He watched the red dot of the security camera, letting the constant signal keep him awake even as he began to drift into sleep. It was all he wanted to do._

_"Jack, stay awake," Dr. Campbell ordered. The doctor was preparing some sort of medicine, ready to inject it into Jack._

_"What's that?" Jack asked wearily. He hardly had the strength to speak audibly. His throat protested at the effort, and his chest sank in pain as he coughed. His heart was still beating, but weakly, and Jack had to watch life past him as he lay helplessly. He had no control over what was happening to him, and he felt defeated as he was forced to fall victim to the fatal illness._

_"Something to make you feel better," Dr. Campbell said, stepping towards Jack. Jack obviously looked uncertain; he even felt afraid. For the past few days the Others did whatever they needed to do to bring him back to health- the medication, the tests- with Jack in no real position to ask questions. They knew he was too weak and desperate to fight back._

_He winced as the needle pierced his arm and hardly had time to brace himself for the effects. Coldness swept over him, rushing to his head and freezing his brain. Jack closed his eyes in a desperate measure of help, feeling his muscles tense as he fought the pain. The drug rushed through him, tapping every weakness within him like a wizard with a magic wand. He couldn't know if this was helping or endangering him. _

_Then it was over. He didn't feel any different. There was still the same weakness and the same illness within him. His eyes closed again; he was exhausted and drained. Dr. Campbell protested, but his voice sounded too distant to make a difference. Jack let out a few rough coughs before finally allowing himself the sleep he felt he deserved._

----

Both prisoners were awake when they found them. One was even smiling, a man, close to Jack's age. An African-American woman was tied up beside him, looking less-excited. Still she kept a straight face as they approached, careful not to let her guard down. Jack was having more trouble. He couldn't help but to react when he saw them, and Jack immediately remembered each from the background of his memories.

_She had been there on the dock, the very first day of their captivity._

_And he was always there along with Tom and the Others...he remembered being led by him the first time he saw the Others' main building. Then Jack was able to hide his fear, concealing his curiosity and worry as they led him through the hall. They walked past rows of doors. Everything was white and grey. There was no sound, but he felt as though he were in a building of quiet professions: dentistry, doctors office, everything happened behind closed doors, stretching out into a space larger than expected. This place had a purpose, and it was more alive than it seemed. Finally one of the doors opened, but he never got to see who was being led out..._

_And he had also been there that same night, when they attempted to recapture him in the hatch. Both of them had been there. Fear rushed through him, and every emotion seemed more opened than when he was being led through the halls of the building. In the darkness Jack looked for Kate, fighting to protect her. But they were too quick. He wasn't sure what happened next._

Jack blinked, surprised to find that everyone had been watching him.

"Do you remember them?" Sayid inquired.

"No," Jack said instinctively. The man's grin widened. His hair was drenched with sweat, and Jack noticed his kakis were ripped at the knee, where he had fallen and tripped in the jungle. Dry blood and mud coated him from his knee to his shoes- beaten and worn hiking boots. Though his confidence was still there, Jack had no doubt that his appearance was a result of fleeing from the monster, a sign that power really meant nothing on this island. Even if Jack was the monster's target, the Others had no control over it.

"Yes he does," the man grinned, "so tell me, Jack, how did you get away last night?"

Jack stared at the man, now feeling less intimidated by the presence of two Others.

"I could ask you the same," Jack replied. Sayid raised an eyebrow beside him, but he didn't ask. Jack was grateful...he'd planned to keep the life-and-death incident as something only he could recall.

"You don't remember them?" Sayid asked, clearly annoyed that he didn't understand their conversation.

"No," Jack lied again. The man was still grinning.

"Then we're done here," Sayid said. He turned to Jack. "Go to the beach and get Locke."

Offended, Jack reacted in surprise to Sayid's orders.

"No," Jack said, "I'm not leaving."

Sayid took a few steps away from the prisoners, intending for Jack to follow. Jack did, already making his argument.

"I'm a part of this whether you like it or not," Jack said, "this all happened because of me-"

"Exactly," Sayid interrupted. "This is too personal for you. This is the same reason we didn't want Charlie going after Ethan."

"But I'm not Charlie," Jack pointed out. But he was beginning to understand Charlie's desperation for revenge. These two hurt Kate for the sake of kidnapping Jack. Kate's life had been put in danger too many times because of them. And she wasn't the only one. Jack himself...they were part of the people who held him captive for nine months. Just sitting by and watching Sayid come up with his own plans for revenge...the thought infuriated him. Revenge from anyone else would mean nothing, and it would only put more lives in danger. He needed to have a say in this, be in charge...even be a leader.

"We have no reason to keep them prisoner," Sayid said, "there's no one to trade them for. What are we going to do with them? Do you really want to be a part of that decision?"

Jack hesitated as he realized where Sayid was going with this; and he was realizing how in over his head he was. But if he told Sayid they were Others, that he remembered who they were and what they did, would the consequences be any different? Yet this was his problem, and the Others were clearly there to attempt to recapture him again. He wasn't going to put other lives at risk for his benefit.

"Perhaps," Sayid began, possibly to free Jack of this decision, "it would be more helpful to bring Juliet to them. See how she reacts."

He immediately shook his head. Juliet was in no condition to face the Others. He could just imagine her seeing them and breaking down, the man laughing at her as she cried helplessly. Jack wasn't going to make her face that humiliation.

"Jack-"

"I'll ask her about them," Jack said, "but I'm not making her talk to them."

He turned and left before Sayid could argue.

----

"What's going on?" Kate inquired as Jack walked by. Sawyer was watching as Kate jumped to her feet and followed Jack to the armory. He ignored her; he'd already planned how this was going to happen. Opening the armory door, Jack stepped inside. Juliet was scrambling to her feet from where she had been sleeping on the floor. She looked between Jack and Kate, terrified of the sudden attention.

"I'm going to ask you some questions, and I need to know that you'll answer them honestly," Jack told her. Juliet stared at him, afraid. "Juliet-"

"Okay," she agreed, nodding. "What's going on?"

Jack shook his head.

"I ask the questions," he said. Then he stopped. Juliet watched him as he hesitated; everything he had planned to say was now vanished. He was forced to recollect his thoughts, and quickly. "Bea. Does the name mean anything to you?"

"She was one of the Others," Juliet replied, voice shaking with uncertainty. Jack realized she had been using the castaways' wording, as though she picked that up from him.

"Do you know anything about her?" He was pacing the floor now. Jack remembered Bea. From the dock...she'd at least been confident enough to make some remark to Tom about using their first names. She was smart.

Juliet shook her head.

"What about a man, about my age, a little shorter," Jack went on, easily recalling the man Sayid captured, "he's outspoken."

"That describes a lot of them," Juliet said. It seemed too traumatic for her to remember them. Her voice trembled as she attempted to be brave, and her eyes danced around the room as though looking for an escape. "Why are you asking me these questions?"

Jack stopped and stared at her. She didn't seem worried at all about the two Others. She seemed more worried about herself and her own safety. He tried to remember if this was common amongst them. But he remember what they talked about before, about helping Juliet to escape. That was what she was wanting to hear.

"One of us caught two of them," Jack admitted.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't think I have a choice."

He ran a hand over his head. She looked as afraid as she felt. Because it didn't matter if it was only Sayid's decision. They were all going to be blamed.

"I'm sorry," he shook his head, "but this whole escape idea-"

"Don't worry," Juliet smiled, "just do what you have to do." He nodded, grateful for her understanding. "But Jack-" He turned back to her. Their eyes locked, and there again was that curious bond between them, like he had everything in common with someone he just met. "You don't owe them anything."

He paused, considering her words. At first, he assumed she meant the Others. And she probably did. But then again, in her eyes, who were the other castaways? Maybe, even if reason was explained and understood, she'd always think they gave up on him. Nevertheless Jack nodded and left, telling himself that she didn't understand them. But, then again, he couldn't even remember...

"What's going on?" Kate demanded. She stepped in front of him, trying to prevent him from leaving the hatch. Arms crossed, she searched his eyes for explanation. She was angry...or hurt. Both.

"In a few hours can you check on her?" Jack asked, waving a hand towards the armory. "Give her something to eat?"

Kate just stared at him, incredulous, as he walked by. He knew she wouldn't agree that easily, and he attempted to ignore her while she interrogated him. He didn't have time to explain. He had to think...

"I'm not doing you any favors until you tell me what's going on."

_Favors. _Because that was what Juliet was to her. Someone she was only giving the slightest ounce of sympathy to because it was Jack's request. He stopped, allowing himself to lock eyes with her. Through this he attempted to gain her patience, trust. Upon her hurt reaction he knew she wasn't so willing. And she had good reason. Guilt was settling within him, but Jack had to tell himself this was for the best. If this was too personal for Jack to be apart of then Kate shouldn't be allowed anywhere near the two Others. He left, ignoring her call after him, hoping she would understand.

----

He wasn't sure where he was going or what he was going to do when he left the hatch. In his mind, he was beginning to come to terms with the situation. Juliet's words were echoing consciously. Jack knew what Sayid was wanting to do, but there had to be a more sensible solution.

"Jack!"

He looked up, surprised at Sayid's voice. Sayid was running towards the hatch and stopped, frantic, when he saw Jack.

"Claire's hurt," Sayid explained. No one else was with him; there was no word of who was with the prisoners. "At the beach."

"What-"

"Go!"

So he tore towards the beach, no more questions asked. Yet when he reached sand, nothing but serenity greeted him. He hesitated, confused. Immediately Jack felt out of place as he scanned the beach, spotting people going about their everyday lives on the island. Jin, Sun, and Hurley were sitting by the shore, laughing. Others were gathered in similar groups, enjoying the peace. And there was Claire, sitting just outside her tent with Charlie. He ran towards them, but once again felt awkward when he reached them. Aaron was on the ground, attempting to crawl. Charlie and Claire were smiling. Nothing seemed wrong.

"Hey," Claire greeted, trying to ignore the awkwardness herself. Jack was too confused to answer. "Did you need something?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," he said, "you're not hurt?"

Now Claire looked confused, and Charlie looked annoyed at Jack's interruption.

"No," Claire said, exchanging glances with Charlie, "why would you think that?"

Jack shook his head. There was no reason to include her in this. Unless...

"Actually, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure," Claire said. She was attempting to hide her uncertainty as she stood and followed Jack. He led her a few feet away, and as he did he noticed Charlie glancing towards them while keeping an eye on Aaron. "Is something wrong?" Suddenly her eyes lit up in realization. "Is this about the flashes? Have you seen more of them?"

"No," Jack lied, "it's...Sayid's captured two of them."

Her hopeful expression faded. Fear appeared on her face, highlighted in her glances towards Charlie and Aaron.

"You mean two of the Others?" She asked. Jack nodded. "What...how? Why didn't anyone tell us?"

"Calm down," Jack assured her, "you're safe. It's just...I was wondering if you'd recognize them."

"Do you?" Claire looked offended, afraid. He was almost taken aback when he realized she must have thought he was thinking along the same lines. He and Claire shared a bond none of the rest had. They had been targeted by the Others. They had more reason to be afraid then anyone. He should be able to trust her with the truth, as he had before.

Jack nodded.

"There's a woman," he began, "African-American. She doesn't talk much. Then there's this guy, pretty average looking. He's really confident, outspoken."

He waited as Claire considered the description. Then her face fell to disappointment, and she shook her head.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I don't...maybe if I saw them."

"No," Jack said, "I'm not letting anyone go near them."

Claire's eyes narrowed.

"You're not?" She said. "What does Sayid want to do?"

Realization dawned on him even as he contemplated his answer. It wasn't an accident that he was here, talking to Claire. Sayid wanted him to be on the beach- far away from the hatch. Away from Juliet.

"I'm sorry-" he hardly gave himself a chance to finish his good-bye as he ran off. Much like Kate, Claire called after him in confusion and fear. But even if he wanted to stay he didn't have answers.

----

When he stormed into the hatch Kate was still there with Sawyer, who was awake again. They were talking and smiling, grateful for life.

"Where's Sayid?" He demanded.

"I'm doing fine, by the way," Sawyer muttered. Jack ignored him.

"Where-"

"I'm sorry..." Kate began desperately. She followed Jack as he head towards the armory.

"Where is he?" He said again, voice raising. he stopped when he reached the armory door, resting a hand on it. Taking a deep breath, he surprised everyone with the pause. "If I open this door, am I going to find her?" Kate, terrified, didn't answer. "Kate!"

"No!"

Her answer came purely out of fear and regret. Jack threw open the door anyway. She was right. The armory was empty. There wasn't a trace anyone had ever been in there.

"I couldn't stop him, Jack," Kate explained, "I'm sorry."

Now less in a panic, Kate was watching him in hopes of him taking her seriously. He gave her that, but he couldn't hold back his anger...and feelings of betrayal. He did feel taken aback. Hardly anyone seemed to care what he had to say anymore. He had become so used to being leader that his once wish of not having the responsibility had been forgotten. Now he wasn't being taken seriously, and Jack wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Let Sayid make the final decision even if it wasn't the correct one? Or ignore the rules and fight for what he knew was the truth? He knew this wouldn't have happened if he had told the truth about his memory...now karma was haunting him.

"Where was he taking her?" Jack inquired. He decided to take this calmly, but when Kate hesitated to answer his voice instinctively rose. "Where-"

"Back to them."

She looked frozen. In all of fear, regret, and concern Kate looked overwhelmed. Much like Jack himself.

"Take me there," he said, already beginning to move towards getting ready to leave. He couldn't let this happen, not when this was his fault...not ever.

"What about Sawyer?" He turned towards her; he knew she had stopped, refusing to follow until he answered. And he knew she was right. Jack looked over to Sawyer, who glared back at him. "He's just now started recovering, what if something goes wrong? Please-" she stepped towards him, calmly, reassuringly, almost. Or perhaps she knew Sawyer was honestly worried their only doctor was leaving. "Just wait a day."

Jack looked away, turning to Sawyer, who was no longer looking at them. He considered the possibility that Sawyer was just acting, an attempt to guilt Jack into staying, but even so Sawyer looked sincerely in pain as he stared at the ceiling. He was too quiet as he lay there, absorbed in a pain so great he looked still, numb. Kate was right. Any moment he could break into a dangerous fever or infection. With Sayid gone Jack wasn't sure if there was anyone left to help him.

He concluded that maybe Juliet wasn't even in so much trouble. It seemed that he was the one the Others really wanted, not her. And if Sayid came back the next day saying they were holding her hostage, he'd go back to their camp himself. All he had to do was tell himself that she would be okay. He could save her.

"Okay," Jack agreed.

Standing was beginning to frustrate him. Finding a chair, Jack settled down. He told himself this was the right thing to do; Juliet would be all right. But the more he told himself this the more he worried. How long had Juliet been on the island? Where did she come from? Did she know the way back to the beach if she broke away from the Others? Could she remember? Would she want to come back? Jack rest his head on the back of the chair as his mind was tortured with possibilities. Why would she want to come back...no one trusted her here. Except him. Did she care about him enough to ignore the hostility and stay? Did he care about her enough to want her to?

His eyes then landed on Kate. She was sitting on the floor beside Sawyer, smiling her way through a conversation. Neither really talked much, and Kate looked too distant to consider whether or not Sawyer was listening. She was too wrapped up in desperation to notice anything except that he was alive and awake. But Jack was sure she was talking carefully, noting every word she said unless it happened to be the last she'd say to him. Or the last he'd say to her. She was handling the moment with fragile grace, trapped in both memory and present. Those two were hard to balance, especially when dealing with death. Especially when you were in love.

Jack didn't remember moving on as well; he was sure that, at least, would be something he'd be aware of. To take that step and face that pain and uncertainty...surely that was something he could remember. But with Juliet, he did care about her enough to want her to stay. From what he remembered, how could he not?

----

_Consciousness came to him slowly as his eyes carefully fluttered open, as though they were too fragile to be greeted by such blinding light. He winced as pain instinctively welcomed him: the hoarse feeling of his throat, the soreness of his muscles. But something else greeted him as well. A smile._

_"Good morning," Juliet said softly, her smile lingering as he lifted his head, confused. He was still in the one exam room of the Other's doctor's office, but she was there. Her hands weren't tied, and only the guards surely stationed behind the door could keep them from feeling completely safe. Normal, even. Forget the island. He was just a patient, and she had come to see him. "They want you to eat something...they said you should feel well enough to."_

_Still comprehending what was going on, Jack rolled over onto his back. He didn't feel better at all. It was like the sickness was there to torture him in a slow, horrific, death. And Juliet was there to watch. That must be why they brought her...a last good-bye. He wondered if she was clueless of this. He was even a little jealous of her. At the end of the day she would be able to go back to the cell, sleep, and dream as much as her fearful mind would let her. At the end of the day he was still dying. He was certain that was happening to him. Death awaited not far away, and it only took one final close of the eye, one step further into unconsciousness to greet it. Unless he died with his eyes open, desperate to cling onto every ounce of this world._

_He wondered if they would tell them if he passed away- the people back at Jack's own camp, still awaiting an explanation of his fate. They were still waiting for him to come home, to be a leader and a friend. Sun was still waiting for a doctor who could teach her how to properly care for her and her child's health. Claire was still waiting for him to be there and reassure her that she was a good mother and there was hope for her son. And Kate...she was still waiting for an explanation. Why he lied to her about Michael or why he always seemed so blind to the need to discuss the two of them- his and Kate's relationship that he couldn't even be sure was real. _

_"Jack..."_

_Tears found their way to his eyes, and he blinked them away. He didn't want Juliet to see this and question him about his troubles as she was so ready to do. Or maybe she was ready to reassure him, in which he didn't want to hear her. He didn't want false hope. Every new medicine or injection of vaccine...Jack hated it all. If death was coming he didn't want to fall to it as a fool, still believing even as the door closed behind him there was hope. He just wanted closure..._

_"It wasn't supposed to end this way," he announced. A burning pain clung to his throat as he tried to explain."I want to talk to her..."_

_He just wanted to know if Kate was okay...just this once. They could give him that, couldn't they? After all he went through because of them...he wanted to know how Kate was, how all of them were. He wanted the answers he could never have before. He felt like he deserved the world if he couldn't have life._

_"It's okay," Juliet said. He could sense her desperation to assure him, but he couldn't accept it. He felt so betrayed...why him? What had he done to deserve this? This was all because of the feud with his father, wasn't it? If he could go back to that day...tears were unwillingly seeping from his eyes now. He didn't have the strength to fight them. Things could have turned out differently, perhaps telling the truth wouldn't have been the only way to do bring justice to Danielle's death that day. _

_He remembered attending her funeral and standing in the back, too ashamed to face family members. Watching, he'd forced himself to remain stiff and tortured his emotions by watching her loved ones plead for her life, for her to return. Her brother gave the eulogy, a beautiful piece of writing. Still he had remained silent, never daring to let a single emotion slip until he reached his car. This would have been a sin, disrespect. Afterwards he realized that even turning in his father for being her murderer hadn't eased his conscious. It only made him feel like a plague, a disgusting epidemic contagious to anyone in his path. Only anger and guilt could surface. Anger at himself though, eventually, anger- and even frustration- with the fact that life never turned around. His father made it so they could never reconcile. He was alone, and even those he worked with seemed skeptical. He was angry and bitter._

_Then he crashed here, and after everything, all the times he could have easily perished during their battles with the Others or the island itself, he was on his own death bed, wondering if he would have a funeral. Would they bother doing that for him? Would it be a proper ceremony or a simple burial out of respect? Would they tell his mom, back home? Would they tell anyone? His throat began to close up in depression and the incurable grief that was becoming his life._

_"You're not going anywhere," Juliet said, her voice soothing and confident. She still smiled. "You don't have to die. Just tell yourself that. You're not going anywhere if you don't want to."_

_But that was funny, wasn't it? From her point of view it seemed like the only choice he could make here was his time of death. He even did consider the choice...after all, what were the chances of getting back to the beach? After so many months away...he'd known Zander and Juliet and this place longer than he knew those at the beach._

_"There's more than one door out of here," Juliet said, "you don't have to go through this one."_

_His father always told him he would never amount to anything. It was only when he realized how bright of a student his son was that he became determined for Jack to follow in his footsteps, and Jack had no where to go but to fall into that place. Determination to not fail and fear of failing kept him ironically close to his childhood life, and Jack soon found himself working with the very man he lived to prove wrong. Now that man was dead, and Jack was still trying to prove him wrong. Once he took on the role of leader Jack knew he would have to succeed. He wasn't going to give his father, even in death, the satisfaction of knowing he was right. He would have to beat death._

----

After taking medicine for the pain Sawyer was asleep again, leaving Jack and Kate alone in the hatch. Neither dared to leave their separate places and neither dared to speak. They weren't sure what to say. They weren't sure what was appropriate to say. Jack found himself so silent he realized he was hesitating- wanting to speak and then choosing not to. He wondered if Kate was doing the same. He wondered where Juliet was. And he wondered why his mind kept switching between the two. He constantly worried about Juliet, but his concerns were more of an obligation. He and Juliet also seemed to be not only friends, but allies. They needed each other. There was that sense of obligation with Kate as well- and even the latter- but there was also clearly a deeper emotion interring and causing all hope of reason to swirl into a mess of impossible confusion. Though he was not bewildered enough by these emotions to consider that there had been some kind of relationship between him and Juliet his head ached at his concern for both.

He heard Kate shiver, and Jack remembered they were sitting in near darkness. This certainly wasn't the proper place to take care of a sick patient, or to even live, but they couldn't move Sawyer now. And the medicine was down here...Jack didn't look up but from memory he knew the damage done to the room. Everything would have to be cleaned up and reorganized. He wondered if there was something to control the heat and lights, to start.

"Cold?" He asked Kate.

"I'm fine," she said, so quiet she was easily able to find silence again. He was going to offer to get her a jacket, he knew she was lying, but despite her immediate silence her reply triggered more conversation. "Thank you for staying."

A pang of guilt nudged at him; he didn't want her to feel obligated to apologize for needing his help.

"No problem." Jack thought quickly, because he didn't want the conversation to end. It felt right to be talking. "Are you hungry?"

The hatch door opened. Turning towards the entrance, both awaited to see who was there. Jack expected Locke, possibly Eko or Desmond. Or any of the castaways. But none of those people walked into the room. Walking straight towards the living room, carrying a gun, was Zander.

Kate leapt up, as did Jack. He stepped in front of her.

"I knew they wouldn't bring you," Zander began. He looked as Jack remembered him: calm, confident. Zander seemed neither frustrated nor angry. He almost seemed pleased. And he probably was. But Jack...rage was already finding its way to his voice.

A shot rang out. Zander stumbled back. Jack's explosion of anger was left to fend for itself as time began to race forward. All in one moment and all before his eyes Zander was stumbling back, due to a wound that came from Kate's gun. He knew this by turning around. Her enraged stance stunned him: face contorted into solemn satisfaction, gun held steady before her. No hesitation. No regret. But suddenly she screamed.

"Move!"

She flew towards him, and Jack felt to the ground before he could brace for the impact. Two shots rang out. Jack didn't realize anything until his head hit Kate's hand, protecting him from the floor. Gunpowder turned the darkness gray, and Kate coughed as she remained on top of him, both too in shock to move. But suddenly Jack wasn't aware of any of this. Because he realized he'd also pulled his gun out, and his finger was still secured around the trigger. Kate's head was buried into his shoulder and he could hear her begin to cry as her tears fell; she was horrified. As was he. Jack was looking away from her, towards where Zander lay dead. A gunshot wound in both his chest and head. They murdered him.

He felt Kate's arms wrap around his shoulders, as to assure that he was there. He knew he should say something, and give her a reason other than his shaken breaths that he was still alive.

"It's okay," she was saying, "we're okay..."

But they weren't okay. They just murdered someone...they could go to prison for that. He would lose his medical licsense...what would his father think?

"The other bullet..." Kate was pulling herself off him, frantically scanning the aftermath of the murder. He wasn't sure what she was talking about. The other bullet hit Zander. Zander was dead. They shot him. He shot him. In the head and...Zander was gone. Dead. The fear was unreal, and all Jack could do was stare at the dead body, the dry blood that was a last sign of life. Suddenly he understood why Kate had been cold, so long ago, before they both turned into murderers. The room was freezing. He was shivering...

The body started moving. Jack jolted to life, though still remaining as he had been laying before. His gun was still stretched out in front of him. His finger was still on the trigger. Kate was moving the body.

"What are you doing?" He inquired, talking in a speed he couldn't ever remember speaking in. He was in too much of a panic, too cold, to correct how he was acting. He wasn't a murderer, he could swear by it. He was doctor. He took an oath to save...not kill.

"I've got to move the body," Kate explained. She was speaking as quickly as Jack had. He watched her, not completely taking in what was going on. All he knew was that Zander was dead. They shot him. Both of them... And Jack's shot had been the final one.

He lay there as Kate dragged the body out of the room. Lay there trembling with fear, finger still wrapped around the trigger. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. He couldn't think. Fear trembled inside him like ice, allowing him to feel this way. There was no regret in admitting he was afraid.

He heard feet run into the room. Kate's face appeared in front of him.

"Hey," she said, touching his arm reassuringly. He didn't respond. What was he supposed to say? Maybe Kate realized this, because she didn't try to get him to talk again. Instead he felt her carefully remove his finger from the trigger. The gun fell out of his hand. Suddenly he felt lost without the weapon; now he was just a man laying on the floor, trembling in fear. But then he could feel her looking at him; his eyes were too distant to see her. "This was an accident. It's not your fault. But Jack, we need to bury him."

She must have known he still couldn't answer, because she picked up one of his arms, helping him sit up. Carefully she helped him stand. The gunpowder smelled...stronger than he could ever remember. And there was blood on the floor...he could see it through the darkness. The silence felt haunting, and it was like the darkness was now against him. Life didn't seem to be moving. Everything seemed to have stopped, focussing on them, on him and Kate, as she led him through the angry darkness and out of the hatch. In fact, he didn't see how life could ever go on.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Until next time...

October Sky


	14. Graveyard Shift

Life Interrupted

Chapter Fourteen

**Chapter Fourteen:** Graveyard Shift

_Thud. Thud. _That was the sound of the shovel hitting the frozen ground, like a hand banging against a door. A bad-guy determined to break through as a victim hides or the opposite: someone desperately reaching out to someone inside a locked room. The jungle earth was no place to be buried, no place to be attempting to break through. Again came thoughts of the unimaginable construction of the six hatches of the island. There were too many trees, too much darkness. They'd never find the grave again. He felt guilty, he felt sick, as he thought of how they'd found the place, knowing no one would know what they did. Hoping they wouldn't. They were afraid when they weren't the ones about to be placed in the ground, buried in a grave lost amongst trees on an island that they themselves built. Without their friends or loved ones. Without a single thought given to their past. The least Jack could do was to offer his guilt. There was so much they didn't understand about the island, and wasn't it possible that this man had been shot dead for no reason whatsover? Kate's single, doubtless, reflex and his careless mistake had cost the life of this man. Death was so final, and if there was any ounce of uncertainty, any chance that this man deserved a second chance or even a moment's time of consideration, it should be taken.

He had to stop. Grasping the shovel with one shaking hand, Jack raised the other to his forehead. Sweat pierced his skin like dozens of tiny particles of rain as held his fingers against his forehead, like he was trying to block out an irritating headache. But the thoughts remained and not far from him Kate continued to dig the grave, the pounding of the shovel against the earth sounding as though it was still coming from his own actions.

"We've got to keep digging," Kate told him. There was hardly a trace of sympathy, no sign that she had given the slightest thought as to why Jack had stopped. Face straight and hard with determination, Kate did what she had ordered him to do and kept digging. Dirt flew behind her in waves of unsympathetic ruin. Soon that same pile of earth building behind them would cover the body of the man they had just murdered. He couldn't understand any of it. He couldn't fathom how they could be standing here now, and after so many days of that stinging silence between them, that they could be burying the body of a dead, murdered, man. And Kate didn't even want to talk. Of all the times, after so many times he had ignored her hints of conversation she had become a mute. The only words she had offered him had been to keep digging, an order to complete the grave.

"You say that like you've buried someone you've murdered before," Jack accused, his voice uncharacteristically cold. Or at least he'd liked to think so. She didn't answer him. Her determination was seemed so effortless, as her shovel struck the ground consistently, throwing away handfuls of earth. Yet he had enough awareness in the world left in him to recognize her emotion and to spot as words that came from his mouth seem to have disturbed her. That was what it felt like, that there was no one else in the world accept for him. It wasn't selfish but a surreal emotion. He couldn't understand how, elsewhere, families were living normal lives with the people they loved. So their presence dissolved from his mind. Now he lived in his own world, where right now the only event taking place was standing here, at the beginnings of a grave, and in that time he allowed for Kate to enter this planet he was trapped in.

She never answered him. She ignored him, as he had done to her so many time. Karma was so cruel. He wished he could take it all back now, and busied himself by going back and retelling his story as though he and Kate had never fought. As though he had actually listened to her when she tried to explain herself. How much of what had happened would have never exists? Perhaps fate wouldn't have seen them as two people with no reason to be together, and they would have never been separated during those nine months. They would not be here, right now, because he would have never been singled out as a victim to the Others and they would have never wanted to come back looking for him. They had never gone back to look for Kate. But as the constant whip of Kate's shovel echoed closer and closer to his conscious mind he was reminded that this was his reality; and really, he didn't want an answer. He didn't want to know if Kate had ever killed someone before. He wanted all of it to go away, to become aware of the world again. He wanted this stream of unfair and cruel events to stop. He wanted to be apart of the world, for there to be some kind of hope.

_Thud. Thud._

But there wasn't. He grabbed his head as though he wished to rip it off, to disfigure himself and not have a mind, to not think. But he was just hoping for a break, for the world to pause and for all of this ridiculous cruelty to end. With a cry of frustration he threw himself backwards, stumbling until he was stopped by a tree, because there were always trees in the way in the jungle. He was tired of jungle. He wanted to see cities and lights...bridges and the constant movement of life. He wanted his job back, to be able to work as a group and not as a super-hero the world was depended upon. He wanted to be able to travel by car or by a plane that wouldn't crash. The island was so intimidating, standing strong like it was something important. Like it didn't know that all these things were happen and there_ still_ wasn't a reason.

"Someone's going to hear you!" Kate hissed. Finally, some emotion. Her eyes darkened into a fiery glare, at last changing from its coldness. She actually made an effort to turn to him, though angry. He even felt as though she realized something was wrong, that something just wasn't right.

"I don't care!" He heard his voice echo through the jungle and even grinned as he embraced the sound. He didn't want to follow Kate's orders and act like nothing was wrong, like someone wasn't dead. "I'm tired, Kate. I'm tired of everything that's been happening! The kidnappings, the death, the graves...everything that has happened to us so fast like it doesn't even matter! And each time we're just supposed to move on...I'm tired of moving on. I'm tired of being afraid and...hiding." He stared at her, offering her a chance to jump in and agree. He waited, ignoring the silence that past between them, hoping it would only lead to her voice. But she only stared back him, glaring at him like what he just said was so impossibly wrong, like she didn't care about any of that: healing or emotions or closure. Like nothing mattered now except pain and moving on. But there had to be an end to this...this was no way to live, not in real life, not in memory of those they'd lost. That they couldn't save. "I just...I want to know why this is happening. Why it has to happen to us. I...I never did anything wrong. I didn't turn out like my father...I had a career and...everything just fell apart. And I know you didn't ask for this."

Still she only stared at him. He had said nothing too detailed, or so thought, and he just hoped that she would understand and agree. He didn't see why she wouldn't...he didn't understand why she wasn't saying anything. Even words of comfort. Anything. He just wished he'd say something to reassure him that she wasn't pleased about the murder, about what all of them had turned into- angry, vengeful castaways. He understood their anger, at least, but to take it to such a level, to turn into this kind of person...

"If you're sick of what has happened then you shouldn't care," Kate replied, her voice cold and very unreassuring. She spoke slowly, as though she still couldn't believe he hadn't caught on to her philosophy.

Jack was so disgusted that he had to turn away. Yeah, he was angry. But somehow murder didn't satisfy him. He didn't' feel anything like that from Zander being dead. He felt nothing but guilt and regret. Disgust and self-hatred. That image of seeing Kate so determined...the perfect shot that effortlessly and so flawlessly pierced Zander's chest. Kate's reaction- no reaction because there hadn't been time- but now he could guess...she wouldn't have cared. Maybe she would have fired again. She bore such hidden satisfaction after the first shot...he could see this but she had kept calm. The vision, the memory, left him so confused and so disturbed that he wasn't what to think. He didn't even want to talk to her anymore. He wanted...he wanted to be away from here. Part of him even wanted to go back to the Others and explain what happened. Beg for mercy. But he couldn't be happy. He couldn't feel reassured and not even ashamed.

"I know it's hard for you to understand, Jack," and to think he had hoped so desperately to hear her speak to him, "but you just have to know-"

"Have to know what?" Jack said, and then, shouting: "That all this time you've been plotting revenge. Waiting for just the right moment, training yourself to not even blink or react or care?"

"What do you think I've been doing?" Kate cried. She looked as shaken as he did, but he was confused...she'd planned this, and he almost felt as though her feeling so fragile wasn't right...that she didn't deserve to be afraid. He was just so angry...so confused... "I'm sorry Jack, but we don't hold people captive anymore. We don't wait around for answers, because we know the answers. They're bad people and they want to hurt us. And how dare you think that I was just going to let him waltz in here and take you again!"

So this had all been for him. Or for the protection of all of them. Jack shook his head...he still didn't understand how this was possible...why they had to become murders. Saving people was saving people...there was no bargaining. In fact, he had sworn an oath to protect. He thought he had broken that long ago, when he had been unable to save Boone. But now...he wasn't even trying to save someone when Zander died.

"I'm sorry this happened to you," Kate said, stepping towards him. Her voice was softer now. There was even some honesty there, though Jack wasn't quite ready to believe her. "I know you don't deserve all of this...none of us do. We don't ask for this...suffering. But we do have to deal with it, and it'd just be better if people didn't know..."

"But if it's such a good thing he's dead then why can't they know?" His voice was raw. He swallowed, realizing how hoarse he was becoming, that frozen tears lingered in his eyes.

"Because," Kate's eyes had met his now, and he realized what was in them: fear. "When...the Others find out...they're not going to be too happy. They'll want revenge. We can't scare them, we have to protect them. So when the Others come, we have to lie. We have to do something because...their leader is dead."

Jack hesitated. Her last statement almost brought hope. Almost. But his throat still felt dry, and he knew the air wasn't thin enough yet for everything to be okay so soon.

"Won't they be lost then?" He said. "Won't that tear them apart?"

But he wouldn't let himself feel the satisfaction Kate did...he wouldn't let himself be proud of a murder. He could construct all the plans he wanted and carry guns and even aim a weapon at someone. But actually killing someone was something he could have never prepared himself for.

"It didn't to us," Kate replied softly, her voice only a whisper. A spark ignited in her eye, and she smiled a little, as though this reassured her. Then she broke eye contact and glanced to the ground. Uncertainty. She was afraid. He was still confused. Now she seemed so innocent, and her honest tone had almost manipulated his stunned confusion. But once he remembered, everything changed. Suddenly Kate wiped dirt away from her face with her arm and glanced to the ground. The grave was dug. "We need to get him buried."

He knew this was what they'd come out here to do, but for a moment he swerved between awareness and dream, where he had almost forgotten why he was standing in the jungle, covered in sweat and earth. Blood even stained his hands from handling the body. But as he looked to the ground, to where Zander lay, eyes gazing up to the island- his own island- in horror, he remembered, and the sickening feeling in his stomach resurfaced.

"We'll be okay," Kate was saying. She lay her shovel down. Her head nodded compulsively. "You'll be okay."

But she couldn't know that. She didn't even know what he was going through. No one did. And the thought they had to continue as though nothing happened...the terror he was feeling soon matched the terror in Zander's eyes.

----

It was in his nature to prepare for the worse. Throughout the hike back to the hatch, Jack fell victim to this trait as he considered all that could go wrong. They could enter the hatch to find the entire camp waiting for them, not embracing them with joy and thanks, but with interrogations and confused reactions. He didn't know how he'd deal with it, how people would react. Maybe they wouldn't even think of Kate as having taken part of the crime, but as it all being thanks to himself and one long-awaited rage of revenge. Or maybe Sawyer woke up, only to see Kate with the gun, Kate pulling the trigger. Or maybe no one would ever know. They'd have to hide this, and he'd have to go on pretending to be the innocent victim, so helpless as he was left to cope with his traumatic life.

"You ready?" Kate asked quietly, her voice becoming lost in the humidity of the night, as though she didn't even want to ask. She already should have known the answer; Jack didn't reply.

His eyes, following the ground through their journey, wondering how many more had been secretly buried there, spotted the hatch door. An uncertain gasp escaped him as he realized this was the end. There was no more walking, no more endless jungle. There was no pause of time to consider what had happen; it was all left to the journey back. He wasn't ready. He knew this, and he didn't want to step inside. His hand lingered on the door, and he closed his eyes. It was one of those moments where you knew your life was about to change. He wasn't ready for change. Kate's hand fell on his shoulder, and he instinctively shoved away. He wasn't really sure why...he had been asking for any sign that she was more than a cold-blooded murderer. But it was done; perhaps the gesture had only been a hint that he was lingering for too long. He could feel her waiting behind him, watching him with eyes of an emotion he wasn't sure was real. Maybe he was only thinking he was seeing things and hearing things because that was what he wanted to hear and see. In one beat of hope, he considered that maybe he was imagining this whole night. Eager to hold onto that moment, Jack pushed open the door and led Kate through the hallway and into the living room.

The empty room waited for him to sigh in relief. The lightening was dim, still suffering from the earlier incident. Furniture cluttered the room...before he'd had to make a path to reach the couch safely. In the kitchen a light beam dangled from the roof, and from the bathroom a faucet leaked. Everything was the same as it had been before. Only he was different, and the blood that stained the floor. Jack remained blank. He didn't feel as though he should be relieved. Maybe he deserved to have to face everything he was afraid of. Still, solemn, he didn't notice Kate had stepped beside him until she spoke:

"He's still asleep."

From the corner of his eye he could spot her smile: the smallest radiance of gratitude. He allowed his eyes to trail to the couch where Sawyer was rested, undisturbed amongst the eventful evening. He almost wished that he had been in that position, to be allowed a night's of rest, to be momentarily taken from the world while guaranteed a peaceful return. To sleep without dreaming, because he knew this would be impossible. Flashbacks already haunted his dreams, streams of memory returning to him at a time when he could not respond. And now, with the sound of gunshots firing subconsciously and dirt clinging to his fingernails of the grave he had just dug...blood staining his hands, teasing, threatening to never wash away...rest would never come.

He realized he was watching Kate, watching her walk up to the couch, gazing at Sawyer. He watched her expression, as she smiled grimly, and stepped away. Would she tell him? He thought. Could she really keep something like a murder a secret from him?

"I'll check to see if anyone's here," she announced. She glanced towards him sympathetically, grim smile still presence. She disappeared into an adjacent room. So that was how she would do it. She would ignore Sawyer, avoid the truth. It would tear apart their relationship. Both of them would be devastated...none of this was even Sawyer's fault. Even if Kate proved to be a believable actress, lying still wasn't fair.

The dripping of the faucet continued to pester his mind. Could nothing in the hatch work correctly? He wished he could just close his eyes, and everything would be perfect again. There would be no overturned tables, fallen bookshelves. Stains of blood on the floor. The desire became so strong that he did close his eyes, tightly, desperately, praying to anyone who would listen for everything to just piece itself back together again. For his life to no longer be this utterly uncleanable mess. He opened with eyes with such a hope, finding his faith and confidence suddenly strong.

At first everything seemed the same. Sawyer still slept on the couch, surrounded by fallen debri. Albums of music and novels lay at his feet. But the lights seemed brighter, he swore they were. Then he spotted the kitchen. Jack frowned. The once nearly-fallen light beam was safely replaced on the ceiling, shining more brightly than ever. But he could have sworn...raising a hand to his head, Jack dug his fingers into his forehead, messaging the skin there in hopes to clear his mind. He looked back up. The light beam was still connected to the ceiling. As the increasingly taunting sound of the leaky faucet lay further in his mind, Jack decided to convince himself he had been seeing things, the light had never been broken, and headed towards the bathroom.

Everything was dark, only shadows of outside silhouettes in the mirror provided a difference kind of light. Jack flipped the light-switch and the room lit up like a fireworks celebration, everything glowing as though that's what he wanted to see. He remembered the beam of light, but quickly as he did he shook the image away. He couldn't start hallucinating now. He needed his mind to be as healthy as possible for him to figure out what he was going to do.

Dreadfully he examined the damage of the room. The lights may have worked, but everything else wasn't as lucky. Hidden underneath the sink had been a box of medical supplies, mainly the shots the Swan workers were supposed to be giving themselves. Now that box was turned over, and all its contents were scattered in unorganized chaos across the floor. Sighing, Jack sidestepped the medicine and crossed over to the shower. The leaking faucet grew nearer and nearer, and as he slid open the door he discovered this was, indeed, the source. After making sure the pipes still worked- they did, but weakly- Jack turned to leave.

As he did he spotted himself in the mirror. He froze in shock at the man staring back at him, bruise and scarred face, loosely worn clothing that wasn't even his. His hair was growing more than he thought, reaching a more richer, more darker color than he expected to see. Jack stepped towards the mirror, facing it with both feet planted amongst the clutter on the floor. Medicine shifted at the demand of his foot; even a toothbrush fell victim to his dirt-covered shoes. He may not have been able to remember his birthday, but he was years older than what he turned last year. Scars from battles he lost...rarely won...had become a part of his self-portrait. His mother wouldn't have recognized him. Disgusted, feeling sick to his stomach, Jack forced himself to look away from himself. His eyes found his hands, his bloody palms and brown fingertips told as much of a story as those scars. He was horrified. Frightened. When had he become this person? He felt like he had no control over the progression of his life...the pain and suffering. Then he realized the blood and dirt didn't have to remain a part of him like the scars. His hands began to shake; he was hardly able to turn on the water. His fingers shook as the warm water burned the bruises he had almost forgotten on his wrist. He winced violently, and tears even stung in his eyes at the momentary pain. Each time he reach for the bar of soap his fingers slipped, sending the bar splashing into the pool of water slowly developing in the sink. At last his hands grasped the soap and he scrubbed the blood away, and his mind he erased the memories, desperate for all of it not even to not be a part of the past, but to cease to exists. Try as he might, he would never be able to figure out what happened that night. He even closed his eyes so that, like the light beam, the night could just piece itself back together. It worked before; it could work again. He so desperately believed this that he stood there, trembling and hands shaking as he violently washed them, closing his eyes and opening them again, cries of rage escaping him when the trick didn't work. Frustration swarmed his skin as the dirt and blood washed away, to the point where he finally slammed his fist against sink and shut off the water.

His palms were red from the effort to wash them, but there was no trace having dug a grave or moving a dead body. Tears of relief blinked in his eyes. He felt exhausted as he stood there, clinging to the edges of the sink because he knew if he didn't, he would collapse. He took deep breaths, and he closed his eyes, though more tears threatened to come at the thought of the night being there when he opened his eyes, when he dried his hands and stepped back into the other room. The blood was still on the floor, he remembered. He could stand here for many more nights, wondering if day had ever even come, and it would still be there. A bucket lay on its side under the sink, and Jack grabbed it, beginning to fill it with water. He avoided his own eyes and gazed down the bucket- proudly (or irritably?) labeled with the Swan's symbol. Water splashed in side, innocent and willingly racing to the top. He turned off the sink and sighed. Within minutes, the bucket would be filled with blood...more blood. When he'd fallen into his profession he came unaware of the effects of blood, of the amount of it he would see. There was only a certain amount given for each life, and losing it was a fragile risk that require a race against the clock to save and restore. Blood could be lifeless or full of life; could save or could remain as a puddle on the ground, a trail to a body left for dead. At least, he thought, they buried him. He closed his eyes as he remembered giving the order to burn the fuselage. All those lives...burned without consent. On his word. He swallowed and clenched his fist around the piercing edges of the bucket. Abruptly, he left the room. He didn't want to think about his poor decisions or failures...he just wanted this to be done with.

Drops of water splashed to the ground, staining his jeans and sneakers as he walked into the living room. Kate was there, in her place beside Sawyer, on the floor. She seemed to be lost as he entered, never flinching his footsteps. He didn't even think she'd acknowledge his presence until he kneeled to the ground. His eyes locked with the stains of blood, coloring the floor like a child's spilt watercolor's. A trail created lines in the floor, seeping and ruining the wood that provided a surface for the hatch, separating it from the rock and earth below. Jack grimaced; some stains lasted forever.

"I can do that." Kate's whisper of an offer rang softly towards him, and Jack shook at her voice: so fragile and helpless. He wondered what she had gone through in his absence...what kind of thoughts went through her head. But he knew that she didn't want to do this as much as he didn't.

"I'm fine," he called back. His voice was horse, suffering from an eventful night sans sleep, sans water. He realized how thirsty he was, how long it had been since he had something to drink; and for Kate as well. Maybe, after this, he should make something for dinner...they could actually talk.

"Jack-"

"Be quiet." He wasn't being too rude, or speaking as though paranoid. He was just, all of a sudden, becoming so tired, so drained from all that happened. But, as before, he knew rest would never come. Heaving a sigh, Jack scrubbed the floor, watching blankly as the blood soaked the sponge and then fell in streams into the bucket. Again blood was coating his hands, he realized dreadfully. It seeped through the sponge and then over his fingers like sand and a beach shovel. The white cloth of the towel was now dyed a dark red, deep as though it wanted to turn black. He wished it would so he wouldn't have to look at the blood. But then, he saw, the blood was nearly removed from the floor. After only a few moment's worth of cleaning, the floor was completely cleansed, save a few spots where the blood was permanently stained into the wood. Maybe no one would ask. He tried but the blood wouldn't come out, and now his fingers were scratched red. He sighed, and picked up the bucket. As he knew it would, the water was now bloody.

He wiped his face with an arm as he stood. He glanced to Kate, still sitting, waiting, beside Sawyer. She didn't acknowledge him as he looked to the kitchen. He wondered if she'd ask about the light beam. Still it remained attached to the ceiling, as though it had never been at risk of breaking from the roof, clinging by one end: a sign of caution. No, he told himself, remember. He had only been hallucinating. No matter how disturbing the thought was that the setting had changed like that, he'd been through enough that night. In fact, he should be grateful. Keeping his sanity would be more difficult than thought, and so he told himself he had only been hallucinating. He had only been hallucinating.

----

This path had been memorized by nearly every single one of them, taken countless times during search parties and hikes to the other side of the island. Silent hope would feel the air then, and it always felt possible that on the trip back to camp, Jack would be back with them. Sayid remembered every one of these trips as though he was remembering family gatherings. Support went unspoken, reaching out to each one of them as they coped with their loss each time. So many times...it would become so difficult for Kate that she would be in tears before they even left their own camp. It became routine, and any of them could have taken the path alone, asleep, and known the way. It was like going to school or work, but none of them ever enjoyed the trip. Losing hope like they experienced was one of the worser tortures Sayid had ever gone through. Only once had they had what could be considered success. When they were allowed to see Jack. The routine had been the same, the search party was himself, Locke, Sawyer, and Kate. Each time they conducted one of these searches the objective would be to discover as much about the land as they could, find every hidden door and pathway into the camp as possible. The previous time Kate found an undiscovered path, one more directly entering the Others' camp. A couple of times they were forced away by threats they could not negotiate, but this time the Others were willing to cooperate. They brought Jack forward, and hope was fully redeemed. He'd stumble towards them uncertainly, surely thinking he was in a dream. His hands were tied and his mouth bound; he was still been wearing the same clothes as when he had been kidnapped. A bag was over his head. When they took it off he looked afraid; he must not have known where they were taking him. He hadn't had a chance to hide any feelings of fear or conceal any uncertainty. His emotions were forcefully announced to his friends, as were the bruises and scars on his face, arms, and hands he hadn't bore previously. Sawyer stepped forward and cut the rope binding his wrist. Patiently they all watched as Kate stepped forward, taking one of Jack's hands. After so much fear, after so much worry, they were all grateful for her to have this moment, to see him and know for sure he was alive. They were relieved themselves as well, as they had not joined the search party solely in support of Kate.

Then Sawyer grabbed Jack, and they fled into the jungle. Sayid protested at first- the decision had come so quickly and without consent- but then he followed willingly, realizing this may be their chance to save Jack. But Jack was as weak as he looked, and they couldn't be angry at him. Nearly collapsing, they all paused as Jack recovered from exhaustion after hardly running a few yards. He begged for water and food. They wanted to run, they knew Jack wanted to run, but he was shaking too much; he was too weak. He hardly spoke, giving simple sentences whenever he spoke. Sawyer asked how he was being treated, and Jack replied casually- hiding the truth for his own sake or the Others', they would never know. Concerned, and suffering from having not been able to talk to a friend- someone she care about- for so long, Kate requested that she talk to Jack alone. They agreed and would never know what they talked about. They would only hear her screams of protest a few moments later, more than three minutes, Sayid observed- Kate must have renegotiated. Running to side, Sayid was forced to keep her away as they took Jack away. He watched, Kate's head buried into his shoulder, crying, as they tied Jack's hands, binding him as they had before. The scene would haunt his dreams, still did as he remained mesmerized by Jack's sudden reappearance. The way Kate's emotional, Sayid's hand holding hers in reassurance, Jack's helpless and fearful eyes. Except for Jack being there, so many similar scenes would also haunt him- search party failures and many nights after seeing Jack. Jack's father's funeral. Jack's funeral. All of it connecting to this path, so worn with memory, still crying in sadness. Trees swooped to the ground, some sans branches and leaves as Sawyer had picked away its life in anger and frustration. Old footprints peaking out from the ground, rocks overturned so that he may see them. Memories running their cycle. Moonlight broke through trees, and Sayid could still spot old campsites where they would be forced to sleep. No sleep would ever come.

They would not stop tonight. The captives didn't deserve rest. He would never know how Jack was truly treated until he was told, and until he was he would assume the worse. He knew of the misfortune of being taken captive, though he would not admit the details to Kate, and he knew she lay awake at night, disturbing herself with possibilities of such torture. He would continue to lead the prisoners through the darkness. Their camp was just over the next hill, and within a couple of memories Sayid found himself staring at the familiar buildings and housing. Lights stood unafraid in the sky, confidence guiding brave travelers to their doorstep. Though it was dangerously early in the morning there were some residents outside, and Sayid didn't have to stand long before authorities exited a nearby cabin-like building.

"Bea?" Tom asked. He stared at Sayid, furious.

"You can have them back when you give us your word to leave Jack alone," Sayid announced. One by one houses surrounding the main buildings- all standing tall and large: lodges aside from one building that could have been in the center of a downtown city. He could have stood there, marveled at its odd presence on the island, noting its eight stories and windows lining every possible space of exterior, for hours and considered what was inside. But this would have to wait; the memory had already made home and he could offer himself a lifetime of wonder at the mental photograph. "And by 'word' I mean that if any one of your people chose to enter our side again, there will be no sympathy."

He hesitated to include 'we', as he was aware of his secretive actions of bringing the captives back home.

"Looks like you left one of us behind," Tom observed, eyes trailing to each of the three captives, including Juliet, who was glaring at Tom. Sayid was confused, but he hid this carefully. "Sorry, but I can't make a deal until all are given back. And by 'all' I mean you give us our leader, and maybe we'll give one of Jack's pathetic escape attempts a few moments head start before we catch him."

"Looks like you waited too long last time," Juliet retorted. She grinned.

"You better watch who you're talking to!" An Other close to Tom exclaimed. "Remember whose possession you're in."

"Until there is an agreement, that would be mine." Juliet's triumphant grin shine brighter at Sayid's cool reminder. The reaction made him feel uncertain: could she trust Jack so much that she was unintemidated by being their captive? Juliet didn't even seem bothered by the fact that she had been caught during her and Jack's escape...she was completely standing up for the doctor. Again he found himself confuse and, this time, even a little angry- after all, she could be one of them. But 'remember whose possession you're in'...maybe his judgment was wrong.

"Just tell us where Zander is, and maybe, maybe, we'll consider an agreement," Tom said. Sayid only stared at him. He was searching for a way to use their missing leader to his advantage; he didn't want to admit he did not know of his whereabouts. But the moment lingered on. People were watching for him, waiting for an answer- they were worried, he realized. Another advantage. All of this could come together as a plan if he could only think quickly...

But he wasn't quick enough. A gun was shoved into his back, and he was knocked to the ground. The prisoners were released from his hold, taken back to their own people. His own weapon was being held as his head.

"Take her back," the man holding him captive ordered. "He stays with us."

Sayid gasped as he attempted to recover. He kept his head above the ground and tried to see where his captors were, but all he saw was that he was surrounded in guns. Panic escaped as he realized the danger he was in, the same danger Jack had first entered nine months ago. This must be what Jack had gone through: fear and desperation, the struggle to hide his weakness. Mud lingered in the lines on his face as Sayid raised his hands to the air, knowing this was, at least for the moment, defeat. Roughly, he was forced to his feet, and his hands were bound.

----

Normalcy was difficult to come by on the island. Even when all was quiet and there was no chore to do, no more blood to clean up, there was always that need for escape. Hurley building the golf course hadn't been such a bad idea, Jack thought. But now, with the Others out there and being constantly in danger, even that escape was taken away. It wasn't fair. Didn't he deserve such freedom of the mind, to find a place where he could have no worries, or at least be able to think through all his worrying. This was why children built tree-houses. Not because it was cool idea to sleep in trees and climb up to that bed, but because even children faced difficulties, pain in life they couldn't wrap their minds around. As a kid, he could never figure out how to build a tree-house. He knew how one looked and everything, but he couldn't make one on his own. But as an adult, there were no tree-houses. Even on this island, full of trees stretching over miles of land his only escape was to stay in the kitchen, alone, as long as possible and hope no one would come looking for him.

Sighing, he turned off the sink. It was only that afternoon when he discovered the leak in the sink, and Kate came by, easily fixing the sink. He could count the hours it had been since then on two hands. That didn't seem right. The way everything happened so quickly- the incident, being kidnapped...just there was enough of trauma for a normal person. But on this island, he supposed they were considered superhuman, and added to that list was being chased and almost killed by some smoke monster, having to save a gunshot victim, and taking part in a murder. He shook his head. Medical school hadn't prepared him for this. Even his father's lecturing hadn't. Oh wait, so they had...had he just listened before, convinced Locke that his father was right, he wasn't a leader, maybe he wouldn't be so important. He could just be another castaway and never be a threat to anyone. Perhaps Sayid or Locke would be leader instead and never make as stupid of mistakes as he had.

He sat down at the kitchen table, another heavy sigh escaping him. This could be a call for sleep, as his head instinctively fell to his hands as soon as he was seated in the booth.

"I hope you're not expecting a waiter," Eko's gentle, but amused, voice said.

He wanted to be left alone, but Jack hid this. He wasn't up for making any more enemies.

"I'm not eating," Jack replied. His throat was dry and his stomach was begging to be fed, but he felt too weak to eat.

Eko did not respond but walked to the sink and turned the water on. They remained in silence for a moment, and Jack wondered what Kate said when Eko came in. This was the first test, he thought. Can you keep a secret?

"When you first disappeared," Eko began talking. Jack didn't lift his head, but he heard Eko cutting up some kind of food. "Our people went days when they would just sit. They did not eat, did not sleep, only wished for you to be found. I knew you would not want such sacrifice." Eko placed something in front of him on the table. Jack glanced up and was greeted by a bowl of various fruits. "Surely you are not a hypocrite."

The comment brought a small smile to Jack's face. He accepted the food.

"Thanks," he said.

He was almost disappointed when Eko did not leave. Instead the man sat down across from him, like a mother waiting for you to try her newest dinner recipe. He really was planning on eating, starving himself, he decided, wasn't smart in his plan to remain sane. But he was thinking, he should fix something for Kate to eat too. Suddenly food was all he could think about. A sickening feeling still squirmed within him, but nevertheless, under Eko's careful watch, Jack picked up a piece of fruit. His hand was shaking slightly, and he had to close his eyes upon remembering the blood on them just moments before. He dropped the banana slice into his mouth as quickly as possible, wincing at the taste of food. His head spun momentarily, and his throat didn't seem to realize what was happening. But with a hard swallow, Jack successfully completed the first bite of the fruit salad. Eko smiled. Jack managed another small smile in reply.

"How are the people at the beach?" Jack asked. He realized that even though they looked at him like he betrayed them, they must be scared.

"Afraid," Eko said, "they may not say so, but they are."

Jack nodded, lifting more fruit to his mouth.

"That's how people can be," he said. Eko stared at him, smiling like they shared some secret. Jack realized what he meant...what he was doing here. "I'm fine. You didn't have to come check on me." Suddenly he got angry...though it was somewhat a relief they still cared about him. "Who sent you?"

"I sent me."

"Well...thanks, but, I'm fine," he realized he was finished eating and stood up. Immediately he felt sore, so tired and drained he stumbled when as he stood. It didn't make for a convincing argument. Eko still smiled, as though to prove his point. Walking limply towards the sink, Jack hesitated of what he could say to prove Eko wrong. But he could only think of a question. He looked back to the table, where a fake window stood behind it and fake sunshine shone through. Didn't the Dharma people ever wonder, Jack thought, when it was raining? Spending day after day and years in this hatch...didn't they get frustrated at the thought of sun and sandy beaches and the ocean? But right now, he would give anything for the sun to be shining, to feel the heat from its rays. He craved day...not only daylight, but an entire rewind of the clock. If so much bad could happen in those hours of that horrid night, couldn't so much good happen in the day? "Is it morning yet?"

"Yes."

A true smile poured across Jack's face, fighting through threatening tears, radiant as the light he was so grateful for. He wanted to be out of the hatch. He wanted to see the ocean, the sun...he wanted to know there was hope.

Eko stood from the table, his smile lingering. Jack didn't mind. For the first time he didn't feel annoyed or offended.

"People want to know if you're afraid," Eko said, "I came here to tell you that."

Eko's honesty made him feel worse about lying, so worse that his smile that felt so permanent seemed to fade. And so here was the real world again. What would it take to escape? He desperately wanted an escape. More importantly, he wanted a guide: someone to help him overcome what happened. As Eko left, he even thought he was taking his concern for granted. Jack stared at his hands, all signs of happiness gone. Maybe he should talk to Kate.

----

Devoted as always, Kate was sitting on the floor beside Sawyer when Jack entered. Paused for a moment, the remains of his fruit salad in one hand, a sandwich in the other. She didn't acknowledge him, as always, too lost in a world he did not know of. Jack swallowed and continued to approach her. He could not let himself interfere with that world he did not understand...it wasn't fair to Kate for him to be confused or angry. Still he thought it wouldn't hurt to pull her away, offer her someone to talk to.

"Hungry?" He asked.

She didn't appear startled but simply shook her head no. That didn't mean he couldn't talk to her. Carefully he walked over to her, sitting the food on the floor before sitting down himself. He gazed at her, troubled by her sadness. He wasn't the only one who had been through a lot that night, and Kate had someone she cared about who was ill. She'd spent most of the night worrying that Sawyer would die and the rest so patiently waiting for him to get better. While the long night was over for him, Kate had no idea the sun was out.

"He should wake up in a few hours," Jack told her.

"Great," Kate said, sarcasm sticking out dangerously amongst her hoarse voice, "then he'll get to be awake through the pain."

Looking down, Jack hid his reaction. Earlier she had insulted his ability as a doctor; and when she made comments like these, her voice so cold and angry, her words felt true, even if she may apologize later. He searched for a way back into conversation. He wondered if they should even talk about last night. Maybe now wasn't the right time after all. It was too soon. But sitting in silence didn't feel right and neither did walking away. If Sawyer could be there for her in his absence, he could return the favor.

"I remembered you were a vegetarian," Jack said, nodding towards the sandwich, "so I did the best I could."

"I'm not hungry," she whispered.

"Please," he tried, and smiled a little, "I made it myself."

Kate finally glanced down at the food, a tiny grin slipping across her face. It seemed almost accidental amongst her dried-tears and tired eyes, but he decided it wasn't.

"Anybody can make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich," she pointed out.

"Yes," smiling was coming easier now, he realized, "but this is a Dharma sandwich, and I don't even work for Dharma. How many people are that special?"

His joke caused a stir of emotions, and suddenly tears were forming in Kate's eyes. Smile fading, Jack studied her, wondering what he said that was wrong. But at last Kate smiled again.

"Okay," she agreed. She had fallen to a whisper again, this being all she was allowed, but she still smiled as she took the plate. He couldn't help but to watch for reaction, suddenly understanding how Eko had before. Slowly she took a first bite, as though this weren't just a sandwich but some big step in their relationship. She swallowed and the sandwich remained in her hands. Jack grinned. Kate glanced towards the fruit. "How come I don't get any fruit?"

Jack looked down to the half-empty fruit bowl, embarrassed.

"Eko made that for me," he explained, "you can have some if you want."

"That's okay," Kate replied, "I'm all for peanut butter for breakfast." He stared at her surprised, and almost angry, that she knew it was morning. He didn't know why...maybe it was something he wanted to tell her. "Or dinner. If you like eating at three in the morning."

He smiled in relief. He wondered if he should tell her, or maybe suggest that she'd go step out for some air and she'd find out for herself. Or maybe, the worse option, she wouldn't care. The thought sent him into a lapse of silence and his stomach twisted in disappointment. She just wanted to be here, with Sawyer. Though she may continue eating the sandwich, he knew her thoughts weren't really with himself. That was okay, if she was worried about Sawyer, but jealously was sprouting within him. He wanted to talk to her, but suddenly he had no words. He was too afraid. The conversation didn't have to be about the morning or the sun; he worried that anything he said wouldn't matter to her. Like that their banter disappeared; all conversation was gone. She wasn't even looking at him anymore, her eyes were already fixed on Sawyer, and on some other world- the one he didn't know.

He had to look away. He couldn't sit here forever, he realized. Especially if she wasn't talking to him. If he sat here, just to be there for her, would she recognize that? But as he looked away, his eyes fell to the armory. Juliet...he felt sick. She was still out there, with Sayid, being led back to the place she feared the most. He should be reaching them, right now, and stopping this. But he had agreed to stay, to help Sawyer. Which wasn't a bad thing. But still...

"We can still look for her," Kate told him. He looked at her. She wasn't looking at him, but he knew she was aware of what she had said. Her voice was full, overcoming its hoarse tone. Her eyes weren't as distant as she'd become aware of his thoughts. He felt guilty, suddenly, even as he had longed for her to not forget him.

"It's okay," Jack lied. He wanted to look for Juliet, but he had also made a promise to Kate. He had a duty as a doctor, as a friend, to stay and help Sawyer. But none of this could make him forget that she was still out there. Later, after Sawyer woke up Jack would still want to go, but he knew Kate's mind would change...if she was even being truthful now, though he couldn't blame her. "I'll go later."

Kate looked up at him. The look was so sudden, so disapproving, she startled him.

"No," she said. "You're not going out there alone."

"I'll be okay," he assured her, though he honestly wasn't as confident. What if the monster was still looking for him? What if he had some sort of sudden break down and wasn't able to handle everything? What if he couldn't find Juliet and got lost? His worrying went on, so much he began to feel sick with nerves. Jack tried to ignore this; he couldn't let anything stop him from going.

"No!" Kate exclaimed. She was nearly in tears. "I'm not going to let you just walk back into their camp!"

"I can't let her either!" Jack said. "She deserves more than that she-"

"I don't believe this," she said, shaking her head. She looked away from him, disgusted. Tears blinked in her eyes. "You don't even know if she's telling the truth!"

"Yes I do!" Jack had to hold back from shouting. He was fighting all he had committed himself to, a commitment he promised himself he wouldn't break.

"How?" Kate was shouting, but as soon as her voice echoed through the hatch it softened; she remembered Sawyer, still sleeping. "Give me one reason."

"I just..." he trailed off. He felt guilty for lying, sick even, knowing the people he was hurting by protecting himself. He knew he would soon have to put a stop to it. "Look at her. She's afraid, she-"

"She was going to give you back to them!" Kate said. "She was going to betray you, Jack."

"But she didn't," he said, "please, Kate, she needs my help." He realized he hadn't even asked her anything. He stood up. "It doesn't matter. I'm going."

He felt her tug at his hand, pulling him back towards her. He stopped, hesitating. She didn't look angry anymore; she looked hurt.

"What about Sawyer?" She asked. She looked devastating that he would betray his word, and he knew she was right. He wasn't planning to leave right now, but maybe she didn't want him to leave at all. Jack stopped, and sat back down.

"I know," he said. He looked at her and their eyes met. He regretted so much...he wished she could understand. Someday, she would have to. Because he would tell her the truth. Just...not now.

----

_August 10th, 2005_

_August 10th, 2005_

_The night was dark. So dark. Alex was afraid, even though she was only watching. Watching as she came closer and closer to the ground. As she watched as the pile of dirt came closer and closer to view. It shone in the moonlight, standing out center stage as though she might actually miss it. Closer, closer, closer, closer. She was being led to the ground, her eyes following, into the ground. Through the pile of dirt. Down, she was watching as her eyes followed, down through the earth, passing layers of dirt. Tree roots growing everywhere. Following foot after foot of this scenery. The dark night could still be sensed from here. Darkness. Wind shivering... A surreal feeling she couldn't explain. Further and further, passed the trees roots, further into the ground. The day, today's date, whispered in her ear as she watched the last tree roots, last of the filled hole until she saw his body. Zander lay dead in the grave._

In the morning light Alex shot up from her sleep and screamed.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading and thanks for reviewing!

Until next time...

October Sky


	15. Lies

Life Interrupted

Chapter Fifteen

**Chapter Fifteen:** Lies

Tears fell violently from her eyes as she scrambled to her feet, breathing in desperate gasps for air. Immediately Michael woke up from the other side of their campsite and within seconds was by her side. She was shaken by her loud cries, by the images that haunted her.

"What?" He inquired, holding her shoulder reassuringly.

She kept her eyes to the ground, failing to calm down. She couldn't...not when she knew that Zander was dead. The image was permanent in her mind: Zander laying there, one bullet wound in his chest, one in his head. Dead. Murdered. On August 10, 2005. Just like the voices told her.

"What's wrong?" Michael demanded, worried.

Shaking her head, she tried to turn away. He didn't understand what it was like, to know death and to not be able to stop it. To sit there and watch somebody die...for people to know that she knew. Had they found out yet? Were they the ones that buried him?

"Alex..." he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into an embrace. She gave in, crying into his shoulder.

"He's dead," she whispered.

Another sob escaped her.

----

The only sounds were Sawyer's painful breaths as he slept and an occasional dropped book. She was still sitting, waiting for Sawyer to awake, while Jack had busied himself by beginning clean-up and putting books back on the bookshelves, albums back on the shelves, in general, making the room a safer place to walk through. But she knew cleaning was just an excuse to avoid the awkward silence that'd taken hold of them, the idea that all Kate was thinking about was hoping Sawyer would wake up soon. She wondered what it was like at the beach...who was telling them everything was okay? Sure everything was. Sayid was missing, out there was three of Them, and Sawyer was so slowly recovering from a bullet wound. The thought of one of Them being able to just walk into their camp must have scared them so much, bringing buried fears to surface and sending a panicking Sun and Claire to find a safe place for their children. All of them were so helpless, living there, having no choice but to hide.

If only they knew they didn't have to. Zander was dead. Kate couldn't understand why Jack wasn't more relieved...or maybe she could. He just had such a good soul that he couldn't wrap his mind the idea of someone being dead, murdered, even if that someone had caused him so much pain and suffering. Kate was the only one who could be relieved. How was she going to go back to the beach and not be able to comfort Sun and Claire, having reason for them to not have to worry about their children? Or worry about wives, girlfriends, friends? They could go into the jungle now and not have to be afraid they wouldn't be found for nine months. Jack wouldn't have to hide in the hatch as he was so obviously doing, protecting himself and others from being found by Them. Zander was dead and for nothing; it was for her to keep secret and hold inside her the safety of the camp.

She gazed down at Sawyer, and as every day, the memories came back. Everything that happened to bring them to this point in their relationship. The trauma that brought them together, that taught them to trust each other. And they'd become so afraid, maybe not openly, but they were afraid. Yet Sawyer was still ready to jump in front of bullets and be a hero. She hated him for that, for risking his life, their relationship, but that was exactly what she had done: protected Jack and, in effect, put an end to all their worries. Jack couldn't possibly blame himself for the murder. That wasn't even fair. He hardly remembered hating Zander, despising him so much that he could put a bullet through the man's chest without a moment's hesitation. He regretted Zander's death. He would rather Zander run away than see him dead. Jack clearly didn't know what happened because of that man...he was even the reason Sawyer was here, now, fighting for life. He couldn't be relieved or feel safe; all Jack could do was hide whatever he was feeling in tasks like alphabetizing books. She didn't understand how he could be so perfect, accepting everyone and hesitating to do so otherwise, even if evidence was there. Her mug-shot. Maybe he was too disgusted with the idea that he was now like her: a murderer. That's what he was thinking. And it angered her. Because it all made since to her. Her father...he'd been horrible. Violent. So bad she couldn't think about it without tears coming to her eyes, as they did now. And Zander...he held Jack captive for nine months. Kidnapped Charlie and Claire, left Charlie for dead. Kidnapped herself and Sawyer. And all the tail-section people...

With a hand she wiped her silent tears away, grateful that Jack hadn't noticed her crying. Couldn't they just be happy that they were safe? Couldn't they be granted with some kind of normalcy? They deserved that.

A sudden gasp of pain drew her attention from her thoughts. Jack was by her side in an instant, recognizing the sound as a sleeping patient awakening. A smile broke across Kate's face, grateful tears filled her eyes. She pushed them away, wanting to be strong for him. Sawyer's eyes fluttered open gradually, revealing tired and pained eyes. He stared at the bandage on his chest as he breathed with difficulty.

"Welcome back," she greeted.

He glanced up at her as though he didn't understand her, didn't even know where he was. It scared her, but Kate hid her fear. She wanted things to seem normal as possible. Sawyer glanced to where her hand was, holding his. She felt his fingers stretch against her palm, as though he'd been afraid the muscles wouldn't work.

"You're doing fine," Jack assured him. He glanced towards Kate, offering her a smile. "She's been taking good care of you."

"So has he," she said softly, grimacing as she remembered her earlier accusations.

Sawyer looked up at him, like he wanted to say something but couldn't. He then turned his eyes directly towards Jack, confused.

"Can he not talk?" Kate asked Jack, forgetting her vow to keep her worries to herself.

"It hurts..." Sawyer said weakly. A painful coughed burst from his throat. She looked to Jack, but only instinctive concern stood out on his face...he was better at hiding fear than she was.

"It probably does," Jack said. "You shouldn't encourage him to talk."

Kate nodded, though that wasn't the answer she wanted to hear. She wanted to hear that Sawyer was better...that he could explain to her why, once again, he jumped in front of that bullet. But she was so grateful for him to just be awake that she didn't argue.

Jack handed her a bottle of water.

"Give him this," he instructed.

She obeyed, quickly uncapping the bottle and holding it to Sawyer's mouth. Jack was kneeling on the floor, preparing to check Sawyer's wounds. Tilting the water slightly upwards, she urged Sawyer to drink. He did so, gratefully, but only to cough it back up a moment later. She closed her eyes as the rough coughs came from him once again, water sliding through his lips as even swallowing was too painful.

"Try again," was all Jack said as he lifted the bandage up, examining the wound underneath, "he'll get dehydrated."

Another flashback passed her closed eyes: having to convince Sawyer to take the medication when he had been shot in the shoulder...carried across the island, injured. He refused to talk about that week, ignoring it as though that would make the memory disappeared. He didn't know how it made him feel. Weak, maybe. She knew he hated being helpless, relying on others to take care of him. Forcing him to drink the water would also mean hurting him. But she didn't want Jack's warning to come true. Again she lifted the bottle to Sawyer's mouth.

"It's okay," she whispered, tilting his head slightly, "you need to drink."

Sawyer mumbled something in protest, eyes closed firmly in attempts to escape. He was too weak to talk, too weak to drink water. Probably too weak to even hear her comforting him. The pain was engulfing him, and she hated it so much. At first she just looked away, closing her eyes and begging for mercy...for someone to help him. Trembling tears slipped from her eyes. She was falling as quickly as he was. Turning angrily, Kate fled the room.

She heard Jack following her, and she didn't know how to react. She wanted to scream but she kept crying. She wanted to be strong but she wanted so badly to give in...to stop holding back emotion and stop lying. But she wanted to be strong. She felt Jack's arms wrap around her shoulders, hugging her in a comforting embrace. Kate clung to him, desperate for his support. Shaking, crying, falling apart she allowed him to hug her; her eyes were closed tightly, desperately wishing for all of this suffering to disappear.

"He's so weak," she sobbed, head rested against his shoulder as she cried. She was grateful for his care, for not having to sit out there, straight face and look Sawyer in the eye and tell him everything was okay. She was afraid she would be lying. "Please...don't go."

The thought of Jack leaving, starting a solo search party to find Juliet and Sayid, leaving Sawyer to her care, frightened her to tears. It was selfish, to ask so much of him after the difficult night he'd been through, but she was desperate for his help. Everything would fall apart for good if he were to leave. She didn't know if she could handle it...she was certain she couldn't. No acting skills, no experience could prepare her for this. Not this, not again.

"I won't." His soothing words, his promise, brought a hope that triggered tears of gratitude. She hugged him tightly before finally letting go, a weight leaving her arms as she pulled away. Yet when she stepped back, when she was on her own, she felt truly alone. Afraid. Confidence was gone; hope was scarce. "I can't do this...I can't.."

The moment proved it. She couldn't be strong enough to take care of Sawyer. She was too afraid to allow any kind of hope to heal either of them. This constant need of support would only get in the way. She was too weak, and Sawyer...he was truly ill.

"Yes you can," he said. His hands in hers, his words encouraging her. Sounding hopeful. How could he be so certain? How could he have so much faith that everything would be all right? That she could be strong? A hand left one of her palms and fell on her shoulder. She refused to look at him; tears still rained down her face. She was weak, and she was letting him see that. She was ashamed...but still grateful.

And she realized, as she felt his eyes on hers, begging her to agree, that of course he would know to have faith. He was a surgeon...he knew how to comfort people, how to heal them. They each new how fragile hope was, how cruel it was to promise hope, knowing this was a lie. They knew that disappointment. So surely he wouldn't lie to her. Maybe she could believe him...

"Okay," she whispered, nodding her head. "Okay..."

She wiped her tears away, shoulders still shaking and more tears forming in her eyes. How would she pull herself together now? By relying on Jack's faith? Looking down, she saw his hand lingering in the air from where it had been holding her hand. But if he wanted her to so desperately believe in herself, then it had to be for a reason. She nodded her head again, wiping her final tears away as she walked out of the room.

His eyes weren't closed but he was looked away, lost in a world of confusion. She tried to ignore this as she took the water bottle, feeling Jack's eyes on her as she lifted it against to Sawyer's mouth. This time she didn't speak, didn't act like there was any reason at all he couldn't drink the water. A silent moment past before Kate realized water was disappearing from the bottle. The moment remained silent. No coughing; he swallowed the water. Kate smiled to herself, and wanted to say something, but it seemed to work, to suggest there was still strength within him. She realized her hands had stopped trembling. Fear itself was diminishing from her.

"Hello, there," Locke greeted from behind them.

Jack and Kate turned briefly as he entered the room.

"Haven't seen you two since yesterday," he added. "How is he?"

"He's doing fine," Kate replied. She didn't even feel like she was lying.

Locked approached the couch, an honest smile on his face. Hospital rooms always seemed so off balanced: there would be those who were worried into silence, and those who had smiles remaining on their face throughout the visit, as though this were as simple as seeing someone on their birthday, ready to take them out to dinner.

"Hey," Locke said, taking one of Sawyer's hands and giving him a it, reassuring, shake. Sawyer didn't take notice, but Locke didn't comment. She envied how well he could handle the situation, when she had to have someone hold her hand, encouraging her through every difficulty.

"How's everyone at the beach?" Jack asked.

"Scared," Locke admitted, "with one of them just coming into our camp...that hasn't happened since."

Kate's eyes shifted to the floor as she realized what he meant: the night Tom came, convincing her they would only keep Jack until the end of the month. But she didn't want Jack to know about that and know that she'd been hurt.

"Since when?" Jack said; she'd already predicted his curiosity.

"Since Ethan," Kate lied. She glanced up to Locke, warning him not to say otherwise. Locke nodded.

Guilt stirred within her as she looked back to Sawyer. How could she ask Jack to be honest with her if she couldn't be in return? She tried to tell herself she was protecting him...if he knew all they'd been through...he'd hate it. He'd blame himself.

"I'm going to go in the kitchen for a minute," Jack said, standing up. Kate looked up at him, a feeling of betrayel suddenly resting inside her. He explained: "To get some more water."

She realized this was all the reason for Locke to be suspicious, even as she looked down to the ground as she handed Jack the water. Once Jack was gone from the room, nerves began to pierce her mind as she considered all Locke could ask her. She stared at Sawyer's silent form, his dazed eyes and dry lips, and she wished more then ever they could talk. It would be like old times, losing themselves in pointless conversation to ignore reality; she yearned for that escape.

"Have you two been up all night?" Locke asked her.

"I'm fine," she replied quietly. More reason for him to be suspicious. But she was tired...a lot had happened since her earlier few hours of sleep, and at the thought of rest she realized how exhausted she was. Physically and mentally. But Sawyer was slowly getting better...she couldn't sleep through his recovery. But she couldn't lie for Jack...because he would soon need sleep. He hadn't given himself a few hours rest like she had...he had been up all night, and after everything he'd been through...she felt guilty, knowing he needed rest.

"Is something wrong, Kate?"

There it was. No matter how little or complicated the problem was, someone in the camp was bound to discover it, and they would never stop interrogating until you've had a full therapy session with them. Usually she was grateful for their concern, and with a little encouragement she sometimes even confessed what was wrong. But now there was so much to hide, so much to protect. But lying...more lying would only draw attention.

"Sayid took Juliet and the two other prisoners back to their camp," she admitted. "Jack wants to go after him...but he promised to stay here and help Sawyer."

Him staying meant a lot to her, and Sawyer needed his help. She could admit that she was angry when he suggested leaving to go help Juliet...an Other. Sayid, though, she cared about, and they all knew the dangers of the island. And being out there, alone, with three of them...she wasn't sure she could have confidence that Sayid was capable of maintaining control. It was just a fear that was always inside her: no matter how much experience with dangerous people each of them had, the idea that they could just take Jack, just keep him, like that, scared her. That was another side of her anger...how could he be so willing to go back to Their camp? Shouldn't he know enough- that he'd been held captive by Them for nine months- to be afraid? She'd waited so long for him to return; she wasn't going to let him just walk back into Their camp.

"I could go," Locke offered.

A little hope escaped her, and her eyes widened with that realization. Locke could go after Sayid. He would be more capable than Jack...he knew the land, he knew where to go and where not to go. And Locke wouldn't take the risk of saving one of Them. But it would be a dangerous mission. Her heart sank. She couldn't ask him to do that...to go out there and risk reliving Jack's captivity.

"No," she said, shaking her head, "I couldn't-"

"Jack needs to stay here and help Sawyer," Locke said, "everyone back at the camp has their hands full."

"Jack won't like it," she said, "I think he wants to save her...why does he trust her so much?"

Locke kneeled down beside her, and finally she thought she might get an answer. Why did Jack trust Juliet? How could he be so certain that he was a good person? How could he trust her, knowing that was why people, his friends, were losing trust in him? She didn't like not wanting to trust him either.

"Maybe there's something Jack's not telling us," Locke suggested. She froze at the thought, the terrifying idea that was a very real possibility. Maybe Jack was lying. "Maybe he never lost his memory."

Maybe He did remember things, but for some reason he wasn't telling...a reason she was almost afraid to know. He was ashamed of something, or afraid. And he was hiding all of this. No. He wouldn't lie like that...he'd said so many times he didn't remember; not remembering seemed painful for him...he hated it. She'd seen him, confused over Juliet's attatchment to him. Confused about everything...

Kate shook her head.

"No, he's just...I don't know."

Because, on the other hand, Locke's theory did make since. When the Others came to kidnap him again, or when she confessed about the time when he was away...shouldn't some of that have sparked memory? Even feelings of fear or anger? And that could be why he trusted Juliet...

But she didn't want to think that he could be lying to her. Not after all the times he wanted her to be honest with him. There were also the reasons he may be hiding his past.

A reassuring hand fell on her shoulder.

"We don't know what happened to Jack," he said. He stood up. "But you still have to be there for him...maybe he's just not ready to tell you." He glanced towards Sawyer, who was still looking away. She wondered what he was thinking about, or if he was in so much pain he couldn't think. Locke nodded towards Sawyer. "I hope you get well soon."

He offered Kate a smile before leaving. She listened as the room fell silent, Locke's footsteps were disappearing and soon the hatch door closed, his final departure. She was alone again. Suddenly it seemed so much harder, with Sawyer awake. He could see if fear flashed in her eyes or if a tear rolled down her cheek. There was more pressure to say something reassuring; everything she thought of sounded unhelpful, but she could feel him drifting away as the silence of the room became louder.

"Locke said you saved Claire," she said. After insisting he'd tell the truth, Locke said Mr. Friendly had his gun on Claire, but Sawyer took the bullet. She decided to ignore curiosity regarding if that was the whole story or not. "She's probably shaken...but she's fine." They would have heard if she wasn't.

"Where did Locke go?"

Kate flinched at Jack's sudden interruption. He sat down next to her, as though he didn't realize what he was interrupting. She relaxed only a little, but still mentally shied away...he had to know the truth.

"He went after Sayid," she said.

She didn't look at him, but she felt his eyes on her. Without arguing, without him shouting at her, Kate knew he realized what she meant. Locke was going after Sayid, not Juliet, and she knew he was angry. An odd reaction consumed her, not even of guilt...she didn't know how to explain it. She wasn't really sympathetic; she didn't trust Juliet. Though Jack probably cared about Juliet, Kate couldn't bring herself to care. There was guilt, for that reason, and she felt like they were truly on opposite sides now. She wasn't proud of that, she didn't even like that. But she couldn't agree with him. The lingering memory of his promise drew even more tension; she knew his instinct was to follow Locke, save Juliet. She almost didn't even feel guilty about reminding him of that...she'd trust him to keep that promise.

Jack must have remembered. He didn't say anything, he didn't argue...he only turned away and began to change Sawyer's bandages. She felt horrible. Suddenly her emotions were tugging in every which direction, and she didn't know whether to feel angry or guilty. Betrayed or triumphant. Even sympathy was teasing her, attempting for her to fall bait to Jack's silence, to say that any one Jack cared about mattered. So she stayed quiet, because she didn't know what to say. She looked to the floor like a coward, backing away from the problems she didn't know how to deal with.

"Where's Walt?"

She looked away, eyes widening as Sawyer muttered the question. Jack only frowned; of course he did...he didn't know. Her heart race...he was about to realize she had been lying to him.

"Sawyer..." Jack began, hesitating, "Walt's been missing for ten months...do you know who I am?"

"He knows who you are," she whispered.

Jack stared at her, studying her because he knew what signs to look for...he knew when she was lying. She felt his eyes watching her every move and studying her face, all the while clearly betrayed. That was the worst part. Having to lie for someone, to protect someone, but still hurting another. Being caught; no happy endings for anyone. And now, he wasn't even going to question her, he expected her to explain, and she knew she had to.

"Michael and Walt came back a couple of days ago," she said. "We've been hiding them in our tent."

He looked away. He couldn't look at her. Sawyer's eyes, wide and warning, stared at her. Glaring at her. He'd understood her, even as ill as he was, and he was still able to feel the betrayel. She sat there, wishing they would just understand...turning Michael and Walt away would have just sent them back into the jungle. Michael was so desperate for revenge, it almost worried her to see Walt around him...he seemed to have inherited his father's hatred. Walt was understandably angry himself, but he was just a kid. They needed to protect him and make sure he didn't follow into their own footsteps.

"When were you going to tell me this?" He inquired.

"I don't know."

"Kate..."

"I don't know!"

Tears came again as she leapt to her feet, bringing a hand to her face to hide her crying. Jack had every right to be angry, that was the worst part. But Sawyer...how could he be conscious enough to be angry but not enough to be cautious of what he said? And how had this suddenly turned against her? All of it. But she was realizing, it was all her fault, and the guilt coming down so hard, all at once, was what she deserved. The Others came back because Michael pulled the fail-safe, because she let him. Sawyer got shot, and everything happened because of that.

"Why did you lie?" Jack asked her. He wasn't looking at her anymore. Maybe her tears frightened him. A sob escaped her, and she hated herself for allowing her walls to be let down so easily. When Jack returned, when she found out he was safe, she should have been okay. But none of it ever ended: her constant worry or sadness...she realized it never left her."Why..." suddenly he stopped and shook his head. He stood up. "Forget it."

"Jack..." she wanted him to understand. But she knew he wasn't only angry because she lied to him. Everything that happened that night, all the things she couldn't explain, or everything he couldn't understand. It was too hard to deal with, too much was expected of them, and their fragile relationship couldn't handle it.

"Jack," a stronger voice announced. Locke. "You should come out here."

She turned to see John standing nearby, but she realized he wasn't as emotionally together as she thought. A trace of regret drew shadows in his eyes; he looked hesitant for Jack to follow him. Despite their argument, Kate was suddenly prepared to be angry with him. He did make a promise; this was Sawyer's health, which should have nothing to do with their conflicts. Jack did go, but suddenly she wasn't angry. She was worried.

"No," John said, "you stay here. Take care of Sawyer." His eyes had danced around her as though looking for an excuse. Something wasn't right.

Turning back around, her eyes met Sawyer's. He was warning her to stay, but she already knew she had to.

----

Jack followed Locke into the jungle, his recent argument with Kate echoing in his head. He tried not to let himself feel guilty for being angry...she lied to him. But he knew that wasn't fair; Kate wasn't the only one lying. Yelling at her only made him realize the mistake he was making, how much his betrayel would hurt her. He had to tell the truth soon, he couldn't let his lies cause anymore damage. Even if she wasn't aware what was happening, he knew how hypocritical he sounded. Their trust, which had already been on a long, exhausting, journey, was once again failing.

Something blinded his eyes: sunlight. He remembered Eko telling him it was morning and how happy he had been. That relief had soon been forgotten, but now he couldn't help but to allow it to crawl back to surface. Cautiously he tilted his head towards the sky. The sun smiled at him, welcoming him to the new day he had so yearned for. And for what? So he could yell at Kate, cause some new problem in their friendship? He looked back towards the ground; relief was gone. It was a new day. Another day of danger, of obstacles he didn't know how to handle. One caught his eye to just now.

Juliet was standing before him, but someone was standing with her. A blonde woman whose hair fell down her back, swaying as she tightened her grip on a gun. Her face was firm, angry. They knew, he thought. They knew Zander was dead. And why. This was the consequence. The tears on Juliet's face sparkled in the sunlight. Heat and anxiety sent sweat dripping down her face. Her hands were clenched together by the bindings around her wrist. Maybe the sunlight hadn't been so welcoming; who was to say the new day was even on his side?

"Where is he?" The Other demanded. Jack looked to Locke, but Locke stood silent. "Zander, where is he?" Jack flinched as the gun was pressed further into Juliet's head. More tears streamed from her eyes as she pleaded to him silently, desperate for his help. He watched in horror as the woman's finger tightened around the trigger. He had to lie again; he had to help Juliet.

"He's dead."

Their heads turned towards the new voice, but the woman's hand never slipped from the trigger. Jack was aware of this as he stared at the owner of the voice, a young girl whom he recognized from his memories. The one who was there with the doctor and Zander, who always seemed reluctant to put Jack through any danger. She was only a teenager. Dark, curly, hair, a tan that really signified she was from a different nationality than he, and dried tears that stained the skin beneath her eyes. She looked afraid: her eyes were small and trembling, she was shaking until a man stepped beside her, placing a hand on her shoulders and immediately calming some of her fears.

"How do you know?" The woman snapped.

The man stood silent, like Locke, but fury flashed within his eyes. The hand on the shoulder, Jack realized, wasn't only a sign of comfort but also of protection. Familiarity attempted to spark memories in Jack's mind, but he couldn't think of the man's name, or even where he'd seen him before. He regretted the failed attempt, because this man and this girl might save Juliet.

"I saw him," the girl whispered, glancing to the ground. Her shame stood out to him, and curiosity considered that something was different about this girl. There was a reason while she was the one in the vision and not another one of Them. A deeper meaning lay hidden in her words, but the woman obviously recognized the statement for what it was. For a moment the woman looked away, a tear even blinked in her eye. She turned back to them, angry, but slightly less intimidating as he caught signs of denial.

"You're lying!" The woman cried. Her voice was threatening to break. The finger on the trigger was losing grip; Juliet even seemed forgotten as she waved the gun in the air as she screamed.

"You know she's not," the man stated, solemn, but with a hint of his original fury.

Again the woman turned away, tears clearly blinking in her eyes. Jack watched what was happening, confused. Locke didn't react at all, and the girl had become overwhelmed with emotion as well. Unexplainable sympathy passed from Jack to her, and he felt relieved that the man was there to comfort her. The man whispered something into her ear; she nodded, tears building in her eyes.

What he was most taken aback by was how Zander's death effected these people. They missed him. They were horrified by his death. He had known this might happen, but seeing it felt worse...Zander didn't even seem like the bad guy anymore. He had fallen victim to a sudden, unexpected act, half full of revenge. There were people that cared about him, who would even lose their strength at knowledge of his death.

"With Zander gone having him around is useless," the girl explained, She nodded to Jack. He looked up, surprised...he was surprised she would think of him. "Same with her." She pointed at Juliet.

"If I let her go, you'll let me go back to my camp, unharmed?" The woman asked.

Jack nodded. He didn't know what else to do. He didn't want to keep another one of them captive. And he was supposedly going to be free. Free from fear of the Others. He could move on. He wouldn't have to hide. He could be safe. And Juliet...Juliet would be free too.

"Okay," the woman whispered, her voice raw from holding back emotion.

She let go of Juliet, but Jack never saw her leave. Juliet ran to him, stumbling to him in a mass of tears. But this time, he could be certain, they were tears of relief. She held out her hands, bound, to him, asking for help.

"Can I see one of your knives?" Jack asked, turning to Locke. Locke didn't answer. Not out loud, but Jack knew what was implied. "Locke-"

He realized why Locke wouldn't help him: he didn't care. To Locke, Juliet was still an Other, despite what just happened. Jack wanted to fight back, to demand to know why Locke was so insistent on not trusting her. But Juliet had been through more than enough trauma the past week. Even if only Jack knew she didn't deserve it, she should be freed from it.

"Come on," Jack said, placing a hand on Juliet's shoulder, mocking the man's action of both comfort and protection. There were knives in the kitchen. He could handle this without anyone else's help; he would have to.

"If she stays they stay," Locke called to him.

Jack and Juliet turned around. The girl and man watched Locke with curiosity, as though wondering if he could be trusted. Couldn't they see this was just revenge? Jack had felt sympathetic towards the girl, but he hadn't remembered a full explanation of her position with the Others. That was a reason not to trust someone. And the man...he didn't even know who he was.

"Locke-"

"Come on," Locke said to the two Others, ignoring Jack, "I'll lead you to the beach."

As he turned away, Locke cast a violent glare towards Jack. A warning. Locke didn't care what Jack thought...Jack's leadership position seemed completely forgotten once he announced his trust in Juliet. And he realized it was all his fault. As long as he kept lying, he would suffer this punishment. He would deal with that, because he wouldn't tell anyone what he'd seen until he understood himself.

"Come on," Jack said to Juliet. She glanced at him, uncertain at first. But then she followed him to the hatch.

**Author's Notes: **Thanks for reading and thanks for reviewing!

Until next time...

October Sky


	16. Friend Of A Friend

Life Interrupted

Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter Sixteen: **Friend Of A Friend

"What happened?"

Kate jumped to her feet as Jack and Juliet entered the room. He looked behind her; Sawyer was asleep. Lack of sleep created dark circles around Kate's eyes and caused the skin of her face to drop to an exhausted appearance, but she managed the strength to appear panicked.

"It's fine," Jack told her. One of his hands was on Juliet's shoulder, guiding her through the hatch and into the kitchen.

"Where's Sayid?" She demanded, following them into the kitchen.

Jack reached for one of the thick knives on the counter, remaining firm even though the weight of the possible weapon surprised him. Mouth shut tightly he ignored her; he didn't have the answer she wanted to hear and she wouldn't like the answers he had.

"They're keeping him there," Juliet replied.

"Shut up," Kate retorted, then turned back to Jack, "where's Sayid?"

"They're keeping him there," Jack said. Kate stared at him, mouth ajar in disbelief, at the way he echoed Juliet's words. It irked her, how he trusted him, but she would know soon why he did. He kept promising himself he'd tell her: that night, the next day. But time always went by, and he still held the truth from her, betraying her.

"Someone's going after him, right?" She said, more worried than angry. Neither answered. "Jack?"

"I don't know, Kate!" He snapped. Juliet's bonds fell to the floor as he cut the ropes. She winced as she flexed her wrist, revealing red skin.

The room fell silent as Kate stared at him and he carefully avoided her eyes. No, they hadn't made any plans to rescue Sayid. Locke went back to the beach, he assumed with the girl and that man, and Jack wasn't too willing to work with him right away. But that wasn't fair.

"They should be letting him go," Jack said, "they don't care about us anymore."

He looked at her, meeting her eyes. There was something about Zander's death that changed the Other's mind, completely changed everything they believed in. He was beginning to feel a little bit of Kate's relief: at least they were safe now.

"But they never cared about all of you, did they?" Juliet spoke up. She looked up at Jack uncertainly, speaking as though she didn't want to be caught saying something wrong.

Kate didn't reply. Neither did he. Juliet was right, this had always been about him, or in the past, Claire. Not about everyone. There wasn't something specifically peculiar about the ones they chose to take- and keep. The idea that he was special was astonishing to him. There was something about him that didn't apply to anyone else, a strength...or perhaps a weakness.

"I'm going to ask Locke to start a search party in an hour," Kate began, speaking quietly, as to not harm the silence, "will either find Sayid or run into him on the way there. And you're not going."

Their eyes met again, his dancing around hers, baffled by her order.

"She's right," Kate admitted, "I don't care how safe you think you are, you're not going to risk being taken by them again."

He decided not to protest and instead basked in the relief that Kate and Juliet could actually agree on something and that Kate could actually admit this without sounding like she was hurting her pride. If he went, what would be the consequences? The other members of the search party probably wouldn't trust him, and when they reached the Other's camp, the deal would probably be to trade Jack for Sayid. It was asking himself to sacrifice everything he'd gained back by escaping, but it was also risking a friend's freedom. Then again, Juliet was right. He was the one they wanted...Sayid would probably come back on his own.

"Let's hope we don't have to go there," Jack said, offering them both stiff smiles.

Kate attempted to smile back, but her smile sank, her face forming again expressions of anxiety. She turned and walked out of the room. Juliet remained quiet, as though giving him a moment to recollect his thoughts. He sighed. He thought morning would only bring hope of tranquility, a day of recovering. Concern after concern was slowly diminishing that hope, and he worried if there was ever going to be relief.

"I'm sorry," Juliet whispered. She looked down, hiding her ashamed expression.

"You don't have anything to apologize for," Jack said, frowning.

She looked up at him, staring at him, wondering how he could think that.

"You trusting me is ruining your relationship with her," Juliet said.

Jack looked down, staring at the floor, wishing that everything could fix itself. But the more they talked, the more time that went by, things just became worse. He didn't want to deal with it, but he didn't know how to fix it. They were just standing here, watching helplessly as the world fell apart around them.

"We don't have that much of a relationship," Jack said. His eyes remained staring at the floor, the words that were more true than he would have like for them to be forming a lump of pain in his throat. He swallowed; the pain didn't leave. "Do want something to eat or drink?"

All they could do was change the subject and hope things would be better later.

"Sure," Juliet said, a small grateful smile on her face.

----

Alex stepped carefully as she entered new land. After hearing so much about this place, these people, and how her people so desperately wished to capture them, she was stunned to find the camp so ordinary. As she followed Locke, with Michael close to her side, she fought to keep her eyes sharp as they threatened to widened at each new discovery of the island. The island she thought she knew so well. But apparently these people actually kept control of a hatch- The Swan- something Alex knew, but now as she saw them entering and leaving her people's territory, she could only respond in shocked silence.

"Your new home," Locke announced, offering them sympathetic smiles.

A beach. She rarely went to the beach, always being called upon by Zander to help with something or another. The beach near their camp served as an asset, something to look at out the window, dream of going to. It was like keeping china in a cabinet, as she had seen some of their neighbors do. The sets would look so beautiful, and she had never understood why they didn't use them. They were only for decoration, she was always told.

But something else that Locke said struck her: their new home. She shouldn't be surprised about Jack- the man she had helped hold captive for so long- entering and leaving The Swan with ease, because _these_ were her people now. The Korean man who fished along the shore, the couple who walked through the shallow tied. At first they glanced up, smiling at Locke, but their smiles darkened when they saw who he was with. Two of _them_, they would think. Alex swallowed. How would they convince these people they were innocent? She never really believed in the Other's philosophy, kidnapping people for their own benefit and somehow manipulating it so that they were helping the victim.

Her eyes fell on a familiar face. Claire. She sat in the sand, not far from the Korean man, beside a young, blonde man. He was playing guitar while she watched her child playing in the sand. Alex watched them with a mixture of pride and shock. The child had grown so much, now supporting a head of growing blonde hair, wearing tiny clothes that had been cut from their normal sizes. Claire smiled as the child reached up for her, slapping her hand with his. The man smiled as he continued to sing. This was because of her, Alex thought, and suddenly had no regrets about helping Claire escape. If only she had been that brave with Jack and Juliet...but he seemed to mean so much more to Zander, and every attempt to rescue him was shot down before it began. It took nine months for her to gain back that strength and help free him and Juliet.

She admired Claire for raising a child on this island. There were no baby stores to buy supplies or even baby food. No councilors and, for a long time, no doctors. Alex winced. What if her child became ill when Jack was missing? Just a cold or really ill...she planned an apology in her mind. For all three of them, their former captives. Suddenly she wanted their acceptance more than anything; she could see herself becoming one of these people.

"Where do we stay?" Michael asked.

"You can decide later," Locke said. He turned around, back to the jungle, "there's someone I want you to meet first."

She and Michael stepped to the side, allowing Locke to once again lead them through the jungle. Alex frowned and glanced towards Michael. For a moment she thought he shared her confusion, but then she realized what his face really expressed: worry and fear.

----

Kate grimaced as she walked towards the kitchen. She could hear Jack and Juliet talking quietly, laughing every now and then. They meant to not disturb her, but she heard them clearly. She tried not to pay attention, but their voices constantly made their way back to her mind and the thought of Jack talking with her, trusting one of Them, began to haunt her to the point of anger. But she wasn't coming back in to tell them to be quiet. Not directly.

They did stop as soon as she entered. Jack had a fork in his hand, they were sharing some kind of meal. He looked up at her, waiting for her to explain.

"Can I talk to you?"

She could have at any time, but suddenly now she wanted to. He glanced to Juliet, and she nodded. What she despised most of all was that Juliet seemed to be aware Kate didn't trust her; she understood she didn't. Jack stood and followed Kate out of the room.

"Something wrong?" He asked. "How's Sawyer?"

"He's fine," she said, "do you think it's safe to stay down her...for an extended time?"

The idea had been on her mind for awhile. Sawyer would need to take some time to recover, and down here seemed like the ideal place to stay. But the place was still a mess, fairly unsafe, but not entirely.

"I wouldn't suggest living down here, if that's what you mean," Jack said, "we don't know how the incident effected this place, and I wouldn't want to be here to find out if it's not good."

"I know, but..."

"Sawyer," Jack said, nodding, "for a few days, I think it might be okay."

Kate nodded, appreciating his opinion. But she was also wondering what his words meant.

"So are you moving back to the caves?" Kate said, assuming he would if people began using it as shelter again.

Jack shrugged. She wondered if he was just now thinking about this...or was he really just anxious to get back to his conversation with Juliet.

"The beach, maybe," he said.

She nodded again and found herself looking away, wanting nothing more than for the awkward tension to be over and, at the same time, searching for a way to keep the conversation going. It was so difficult for them to talk now, to say the easiest of words. Every conversation seemed to end with an awkward silence forcing a poor excuse for departure. Like now. She hated it, but the force controlling this tension never seemed to drift away.

"I was going to go get some of our stuff," Kate explained.

"That's fine," Jack said, though he didn't have to. Another pause of silence.

She couldn't help but to peer behind him. Juliet was sitting at the kitchen table, gazing down to the cup she was holding in her bruised hands. She didn't look so content now, without Jack there. Sympathy threatened to pass onto Juliet, but as Kate wondered what she was thinking about, she began considering the possibilities. How easy would it be to hide a smile and still praise herself for so gracefully being able to manipulate Jack?

"I guess you realize you have to trust her now," Jack said.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Kate turned to Jack, staring at him incredulously.

"What?" She couldn't even begin to answer him; she wanted an explanation.

A smile began to dance across Jack's face.

"They let her go, Kate," he said, "they don't even care about her. "She's out here, on her own."

"You really believe that?" She wondered how they could have been through so much together on this island- they had learned from the same experiences, but they hadn't learned the same lessons. Only, there was one gap of time when they weren't together, and that one timeframe twisted everything into madness.

"Yeah, I do," Jack said. His smile only lingered, cowering behind his frustration. They stood in silence, the steam from their anger dying away as time passed. Neither of them liked arguing; neither understood how easily this anger had come to them. His eyes avoided hers, but hers still attempted to connect with his. She wanted an explanation, a reason she hadn't heard before that actually seemed plausible. No more of this half-truth and the knowledge she knew Jack was hiding. There was something he wasn't telling her about this, and it angered her each times he caught him lying- not because he was lying, but because he felt he needed to lie. "I'm going..." he swallowed, his eyes still avoiding hers, "I need to get back to Juliet."

She stared at him, letting herself appear hurt. Why hide that from him? If he felt guilty he should, because there was no reason he had to do this. But he remained silent, still finding the need to wait for her consent to end the conversation.

"Whatever," she muttered.

Turning, she walked away from their fight, leaving it again with no real ending. Or maybe it always had an ending, the same ending of being angry with each other, and that's just how it would be. There was no hope to reconcile, there would just always be these fights. Cliffhangers that would only lead to more arguments. She was glad she had turned away; suddenly she didn't want him to see that she was upset. Her emotions were in turmoil, chasing in different directions as she fought to understand what she wanted.

She stepped into cool air, leaving the hatch and its darkness behind her. Tears reached her eyes, but she brushed them away as she walked towards the jungle. She was grateful to be able to get away, to be at the beach again and maybe, for even a moment, let the ocean comfort her and guide her back to the road she needed to be on. But approaching voices signaled another confrontation with someone, and with anger curling to a corner inside her, another argument threatened to rise.

Locke appeared first; he was talking to someone. She didn't listen, she only kept her eyes on who he was talking with: a girl, stepping out of the jungle that hid them along with another man. Both of whom Kate didn't recognize. Kate stood there, waiting to be greeted. She seemed to have become invisible, turning into a camouflage that hid her perfectly in the jungle. It was a feeling she hated but was familiar with: it was what made her feel forgotten when she argued with Jack, during everything that happened over the past few days. Like the world was revolving around her, only no one could see her. She lived in silence, solemn as other life avoided her, letting her deal with her own issues.

"Hello, Kate," Locke said at last. The girl turned towards whom he was talking to. She was a teenager, with tanned skin and dark hair. Somehow she looked familiar, but Kate's face remained blank in confusion, she didn't speak to them and she let every detail she notice be forgotten as her silence demanded an explanation. "This is Alex and Michael. They'll be staying with us."

Her eyebrows furrowed as her anger crept out of its corner. She despised being left in the dark, decisions being made without her. People trusting others for no logical reason.

"Who are they?" Kate inquired. One reason she hoped Sayid would return soon was because he could think rationally; he would agree with her, that they shouldn't be trusting these people.

"They were freed from the Others' camp," Locke explained simply, "they'll be staying with us, at the beach. If you were just headed there, you can come with us, if you'd like."

No, she wouldn't like to. She would like for the world to become normal again, for caution to actually mean something. She was living in some weird alternate universe where nothing made sense and everything was opposite of what it should be: she and Jack were fighting, Jack and Locke were trusting some of Them. It was all wrong...she wanted it to stop.

"I would like to know what's going on," Kate snapped, "why are you trusting them?"

They were brainwashed. That could be it. Jack and Locke had been kidnapped, just quickly enough so that they could be brainwashed.

"If you'll come with us, you'd understand."

More riddles. More lies. The same symptoms as Jack. She would fall for this game again.

"No thanks," Kate replied, disgusted.

Turning, she began going down a different path to the beach. She almost wished she didn't have to go there...if everyone was going to act like she wasn't there, she found herself wanting to play along for awhile. The arguing and confusion, the worrying for Sawyer's health, all of this along with everything else that had taken place over the past couple of weeks was so draining she felt mentally and physically exhausted. She wanted to disappear and be able to lay in peace, stare at the ocean and not have to think about all of this. But she knew reality wouldn't allow this, and she stayed on the path she had to take.

----

The beach was more welcoming than she had imagined: people living normal lives, walking and going about their morning without a clue as to what she had been through the night before. She stood there and watched, mesmerized. They had no clue, no clue what she had done, that Zander was dead. A sad smile broke across her face; she wanted to shout to them, let them all know that they were safe now. But they looked like they were doing okay. They were used to it: the violence, being afraid. The time had come to where they were so used to this horror they knew how to get over it, how to smile and fall back into rhythm with their everyday lives. If only she had been there to learn their secret. Again she felt like she was in another world, fighting all these battles amongst ordinary people.

Her eyes fell on Sun, walking through the camp with a sleeping child in her arms. Managing another smile, Kate ran a hand through her hair before approaching her.

"Hey," Kate said, her words more quiet than she would have liked. Already she knew Sun could see through her disguise...but then again, she wasn't really hiding.

"Kate," Sun announced, as though she hadn't expected to talk to Kate again. Sun's eyes widened. "How's Sawyer?"

"He's okay," Kate replied. She fought the tears and their usual threat and gazed down at Sun's child, her closed eyes, exhausted though she couldn't even stand up by herself yet. Babies...they tired so easily, when their lives involved people amazed with their beauty and crying, even though they were so loved. She could almost envy them, she could almost envy the comfort Sun had in knowing that in any moment her child could wake up and be okay. "I came down here to get some of our stuff...we're going to stay in the hatch for awhile."

"If you need anything..."

"We're okay," Kate lied. Of course they weren't...she looked away, trying to smile even amongst her grief. "Jack's been helping a lot, and Sawyer will be fine."

"Of course he will," Sun said, smiling. Her hand reached out, letting go of her child for the quickest of moments but long enough to offer Kate sympathy, brushing her hand across her arm and then another sad smile, full of understanding and sympathy.

She left Kate standing there, not wanting to draw too much attention to her sadness. Head tilting towards the sky, she felt tears come again. They were always there, waiting for the gate to open so they could flow freely, exposing her emotions and relieving her of hiding. But she had to hide, because that's how she became stronger, by dealing with these emotions and situations. Her philosophy was by no means emotionally healthy, and she didn't like it. But her reaction to pain always was followed by that instinct, to hide and to cope quickly. It hurt, to do that. It did...

Hand held to her head, Kate tried to gather herself together, closing her eyes tightly and battling the pain. If only the world could just stop so she could figure out what she was supposed to do. But she had to prepare for their temporary move to the hatch. Life was going on, and when it stopped it would be for good.

----

Kate was wrong about him. He wasn't sure exactly what she thought, maybe that he had feelings for Juliet or that he didn't care about her any more. Suddenly he was no longer hungry and let his fork bounce on and off the food in front of him. She was jealous. No, she hadn't admitted to it, but he could tell. Whenever he talked to Juliet or even mentioned her, Kate's eyes would light up in fury like a match. It wasn't all anger, jealousy radiated off of her like beams of emotional light that glowed around her. She wasn't as good at hiding as she thought.

The question was, what exactly was she jealous of? Did she think he had feelings for Juliet? Or did she think she was being left out, that he was going to Juliet with every secret he kept from Kate, talking to her and telling _her_ the truth? He wondered if Kate ever considered how wrong she was...and she was wrong. It was like bad karma. He had come back from being held captive, expecting to find his relationship with Kate where they left it- rocky, with an unfortunate dose of tension hanging in the air, but every now and then light would shed on them. Piece by piece, their friendship would form again. They both knew it would be awhile before they let something like a kiss come and complicated things again. Now Kate was in a relationship with someone else, yet she was still jealous of him and Juliet. They didn't even have a relationship, not a romantic one. Not that he knew of, anyway...

"Is she mad at you?"

Jack looked up at Juliet's softly spoken question. He shook his head and lied:

"No."

His abandoned meal stared back at him as he lowered his eyes to the table. Vegetables greeted him with sympathy; silence offered him time to contemplate his thoughts. He was getting good at this, the lying. He almost felt like he had power when he lied: he could control what people thought about him. The catch was that he had to be careful, one mistake and his strategy would be ruined. But it was beginning to seem like it was the strategy, the lies, that were ruining his life. Karma. Now he had almost no relationship with Kate. What would she think if she told him the truth? If she knew how much he had been lying, would the fact that he finally told the truth make a difference?

"I'm sorry," Juliet said, not in reply but in a new statement.

Face contorted into confusion, Jack glanced towards her.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he said.

Great, now others were feeling guilty because of him.

"You trusting me is ruining your relationship with her," Juliet said. "You need to fix this."

"What's the point?" Jack muttered.

Sitting the fork down, Jack raised his hands to his head. He hadn't slept all night, and it looked like the day wasn't going to slow down for him to rest any time soon. With everything going on his head, he wasn't sure he would be able to sleep even if he had the chance. Kate could forgive him and then what?

"You like her," Juliet replied, a smile dancing across her face. When he didn't look up she kept trying. He refused to answer...no one could his answer. "Jack..."

Irritated and upset, he gave in. Head lifting from his hands, he stared at her, revealing his face that mirrored the cold emotion in his reply.

"So what?"

He couldn't go down this road again. He had already begun to accept Kate and Sawyer's relationship; he didn't need to undo what he had accomplished. There was nothing he could do about what he felt, not unless he wanted to present himself as a jerk, a selfish, obsessed man, so in love he was willing to ruin another man's life. He didn't want to become that kind of person, and his reputation couldn't afford it. Sawyer had friends, people who were on his side and supported him. Especially with him bringing Juliet to their camp, Jack would be lucky to find another person who would talk to him. No, interfering would never work. He'd completely throw off the peaceful balance of the camp, and he had a feeling others wouldn't be afraid to react and show their true opinions.

"So you've got to be honest with her," Juliet said, "talk to her...Jack, you spent nine months away from her, wanting to see her again. You can at least fix the mistakes made before."

He smiled wearily. What a perfect world Juliet lived in inside her head. He and Kate could fix their mistakes from before and they could live happily ever after as best friends. That could happen...but true feelings never went away. Feelings and the past that was too deeply inside of him would never let itself be forgotten. Perhaps it would be the same for Kate. Then they were back where they started, hurt that much more.

"Jack," Juliet began again. She was staring at him with the eyes of an excited therapist, seeing improvement in her patient. She was happy for her friend, whom she thought could finally get his life back together. Then her eyes darkened and her excitement dissolved. "Why do you trust me?"

Their eyes met and he told her, the same thing he had told Kate: he couldn't tell her. The answer was so confusing, so personal. He regretted having to say this, but he couldn't help it, he couldn't tell them. Not yet.

"Because-" her eyes flickered momentarily towards the table; her previous persona had completely disappeared. She was no longer excited for her friend but hurt by him. "If you can't tell me then maybe, maybe she has a right to be angry with you." Hesitant but determined to announce her fears, Juliet looked back up to him, her eyes fixed on his as she shook a little, terrified of his answer before she even asked the question. "Are you hiding something? From her...from me?"

His stare darkened, growing fearful and uncertain. No, not her too. He couldn't ruin the last friendship he had on this island. This was the perfect opportunity...he could actually tell the truth. But what he was subconsciously realizing was that when he decided to confess, Kate should know first. Their relationship was so fragile right now...its survival possibly depended on him telling the truth. And she deserved to hear the truth. Not that Juliet didn't...

He also realized he wasn't answering. Silence was perhaps the easiest way to tell the truth, so it was also the hardest way to lie.

"I-"

"Don't think you can't talk to us, Jack," Juliet said, "I know she's mad at you, but she still cares."

"I know," he said.

"I care-"

"I know."

"Your lies are only hurting yourself," Juliet said, as though challenging him. Her eyes studied him, looking to see what effect her words had.

Jack sighed, he knew she was right. There was really no reason...everything was too complicated. He had to wait until he figured it all out.

"Just tell me this," Juliet said, more calmly, "why can't you tell me?"

Remaining silent, he realized something...there was no reason he shouldn't be telling Juliet he'd been remembering things. It might even help him. But there was a reason.

"Because I haven't told her yet," he said.

He would have to tell Kate first, no matter how unfair it was to Juliet. There was no way he could finally confess to Kate only to admit Juliet already knew. He could see the look on her face...anger, but more importantly, hurt. Then she would probably walk away, and it wouldn't even matter what he said because she would be so betrayed. Who knew how long it would be before she talked to him again.

"Fair enough."

He looked at her in surprise; grateful.

"I'm back," a soft voice spoke up, carefully cutting into their conversation. Kate.

"Okay," Jack replied, standing up. Juliet did the same as they prepared to go to the beach. He hadn't been down there since last night. He wondered how people would react. Honestly, he was nervous. He didn't have a good reputation right now, especially not good enough to excuse being friends with someone people thought was an Other. But he tried not to appear worried and offered Juliet and Kate a smile. Kate smiled back, but Juliet was quiet, looking almost sick. She was nervous as well.

"If you need anything, find me at the beach," he told Kate. She nodded.

He and Juliet left before he gave Kate an opportunity to argue. Guilt had long since rested in him, flinching inside him once again as he walked past Kate. Kate's eyes were turned towards the ground, her face purposefully fixed with her smile as they left. The worse part was knowing similar reactions would be ahead.

They walked in silence as they entered the jungle. Jack's hands pushed the hatch door opened and it seemed to take hours for their feet to reach the jungle floor. But at last they were outside. He breathed in the fresh air and let the sun light their path as they headed towards the beach.

The friendship between he and Juliet must be strong, he thought, for her to put so much trust in him. She felt comfortable with him taking him back to where he lived, a place that consist of dozens of people that didn't trust her and nearly didn't trust him. They must have gone through so much together, and he had only remembered so much. They were almost closer than he and Kate. They even knew each other longer. He wondered how much Juliet knew about him, what all he told her. He thought about what little he told Kate, even before his disappearance. He had to make things right; he had waited nine months to make things right.

He stole a glance towards Juliet, knowing how awkward this must be for her. She wasn't a child or some foreign creature. She was only human, she had come to this island just as they had...he assumed. Now she was being held prisoner and misjudged by people just like her. Back home, no one would have given a second thought to her had they passed her on the street. Now she was entering new territory, like she was becoming an adult again and stepping into another world on her own.

"Jack," Juliet said suddenly. Snapping away from his thoughts he became in tune with the world again, glancing around to see if something was wrong. "Jack-"

Juliet stopped, holding her hand out for him to do the same. She was staring at the ground, eyes confused, looking as though she'd be sick.

"What's wrong?" He asked, turning to her. He frowned in concern, studying Juliet and the world around them for an explanation but was left for her to explain.

"I can't," she said with difficulty, eyes spinning faster and faster as weakness threatened for her to collapse, "I can't do this."

"It'll be okay," Jack said. He couldn't help but to feel relieved: this was a problem that he could, hopefully, solve, and quickly. "They'll get used to you and they'll realize they're wrong."

"And if not?" Juliet said fearfully.

She looked up at him, terrified because she feared there would be no comforting answer.

"Everything will be okay," Jack said, this time slowly. He placed a hand on her shoulder, staring into her eyes to continue to convince her of this silently.

She nodded, though he couldn't be sure if she was fully convinced. Once again they walked towards the beach, Jack hoping his words would prove to be true.

Juliet had picked the right moment to announce her uncertainty: a few feet later they reached the beach, a vacant strip of sand as far as they could see until multiple paths of footprints swung into view to the right, in the distance. If they squinted they could point out a few castaways, ones whom Jack recognized as Charlie and Claire. Charlie had become more protective of Claire than ever, Jack realized. How would he take Jack bringing a supposed Other to their camp?

On cue, people began to crowd around as he and Juliet slowly approached the camp. He didn't want to look too suspicious, but he walked in tune to Juliet's nerves, which held her back in trembling, cautious, steps. Everyone was staring at them, but no one asked questions. They expected him to explain. Jack looked around at all of them. His eyes fell on Michael and Walt, standing amongst the crowd as though this wasn't the first time Jack had seen them in ten months. He wondered if it had been hard for them, coming back into the came; but they looked as though they fit right in. They both looked like they survived a vicious battle: bruises on their faces and torn clothes, hints of exhaustion even though they had the chance to sleep the entire night. But he was glad to see them back, at least glad to know they were safe. Yet their return haunted him. Had something gone wrong with getting rescued?

But he had dozens of eyes waiting for him to explain; he would have to beg for answers later.

"This is Juliet," Jack began, voice loud and confident. He didn't want to offer any signs of uncertainty or fear. "She was with me, when they were holding me captive. She's going to be staying here, with us."

"On the beach?" Hurley asked.

"Yeah," Jack nodded.

He almost felt like he was leader again, speaking to a group of people and them listening, but he knew he was fooling himself. These people didn't looked up to him, they looked at him with suspicious and fearful glances, careful to not be caught by Jack himself. Confidence was definitely what he needed right now amongst this group of people who would test his loyalty with all the strength they had. And when it came to strength and protection, these castaways could put up an impressive fight.

"Where's Sayid?" Claire asked. He couldn't help but to notice how closely she was holding Aaron.

"He'll be back soon," Jack reassured. He decided not to tell the details of Sayid's captivity; he realized he hardly knew much about it.

"She'll be staying here, and so will."

He thought about adding 'Does anybody have a problem with that?', but he remained silent. No one's eyes left him. They were in a standoff, and the next movement would predict everything. So he began walking. He past the crowd, eyes straight forward though he could spot Juliet's shadow, telling him she was following.

----

Alex's heart raced as she followed the bald man- who had introduced himself as John Locke- to an unknown place. Was this a trap? They just kept walking through jungle that looked the same, leading to seemingly no where. What confused her was that this looked like the same jungle she was so familiar with, and she kept expecting to be lead to one of the hatches near the other side of the island, or one of their buildings. She wouldn't call it missing her camp, but adjusting to life in this other world would be difficult.

"Okay," Locke announced, "here we are."

They arrived at the edge of a beach, a fairly empty looking beach. To her right she could see nothing, but to her left a few campsites could be seen in the distance; but there was one particularly close. It was the one Locke was gazing at, almost in pride. Michael was staring as well, but the look on his face was opposite, one that scared her. He looked afraid, afraid of someone. She studied the campsite for explanation.

A blue to provided shelter for rain, it was the first thing she noticed as it was also one of the first aspect of a campsite someone living on a beach would consider. Objects were spread around the camp as though they'd been stored there despite lack of opportunity for organization. A small shelf held many papers and books. Clothes lay in a pile towards the side, there was no evidence if they were dirty or clean. Suitcases hid more possessions, but she was now studying the bookshelf again. There was an item placed on the bottom shelf, kept there in hopes of it not being destroyed by a fall or being knocked off the top shelf. It was a box, small, and she couldn't tell the design from this distance, but a silver hook on the back of it suggested it was a music box. Suddenly she realized that whomever lived here wasn't present, despite their staring and Locke's hint towards visiting the camp.

A human shape began to appear from the back of the campsite, its hair long and curly, skin tanned and baring scars and bruises. It was a woman, wearing jeans that hung loosely around her legs, suggesting they weren't her size. She also wore a tank-top, one that was dyed with dirt and age. The woman pulled her hair back behind her ears as she bent down and looked inside one of the suitcases. She picked up a jacket and brought it to her chest with grace and care. Expression soft, easing into the feel of the memory the jacket held, the woman stood, lost in her thoughts, until her senses pointed her towards where Alex stood with Locke and Michael. Alex froze as the woman's eyes fell to her first and remained.

She began to walk towards them. Alex suddenly desired to run away...if someone didn't stop her, she would run soon. She was entering territory that foreshadowing told her she didn't want to. There was something about this woman Locke wanted her to know, and as she walked closer, Alex realized the woman was staring at her like she recognized Alex. Maybe this was someone Zander and everyone else had kidnapped, and she was supposed to feel guilty. Whatever the reason, she felt uncomfortable standing there as the woman approached her with this look of awe on her face. Relief.

"Alex," Michael began reluctantly. What did he not want to say? She was afraid, afraid of what all of this meant. "This is your mother."

She became overwhelmed by emotion. Confusion hit her, mixed brilliantly with denial. Her mother was dead, both of her parents had passed away after a shipwreck. Michael had mostly been the one to raise her when she had no blood family. That couldn't all be a lie; it didn't make since. She trusted Michael, would he lie to her? No...

But he had been afraid. As soon as he saw the camp, he knew. Haunted by the past, exposed by secrets carefully hidden, Michael stared at the woman in terror as his past confronted him. Still she looked to Michael, hoping for at least an explanation, if not a sign this was all a joke. How could they not have prepared her for this? How could Locke introduce her to the mother she didn't know of and not tell her what was going on? Confusion, anger, denial. She was slowly experiencing the five steps of being lied to. All the while the woman, who she was reluctant to so quickly call her mother- denial-, was only a foot from her. Mouth open in disbelief, she brought her hands to Alex's arms.

Alex stepped back. No, her life couldn't move forward like this without her permission. She did what she feared would happen: she ran away.

----

Juliet laughed as Jack struggled with the tarp.

"Let me help you," she insisted, stepping towards Jack.

"I've got it," he lied. Building huts with tarps was more difficult than he remembered. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, but the piece of tarp seemed a football stadium size bigger than him. But he said that he could do this, and he would.

"Let me see it," Juliet protested, grabbing a corner of the tarp.

She took a corner of the tarp and drug it to the pole it would hook onto, smiling as she did. With ease the tarp fit onto the two poles. Juliet grinned.

"Rome wasn't built in a day," Jack pointed out.

Juliet laughed.

"But an average human could probably put together one of these tents in ten minutes," Juliet teased.

She walked around to the front of the tent, examining her new home. There really wasn't much to look at, just a section of sand with a tarp draping down towards the back and over the sand. It was closer to the ocean than most of the other tarps, but that had been on Juliet's request. He could understand why, after spending so long being held captive, being near the ocean seemed like the perfect remedy. Juliet really did seem happy. He couldn't help but to smile, lost in a daze as he watched her, so carefree and smiling so brightly as she laughed to herself. She reached down for a bottle of water that was already halfway empty.

"Here," Jack offered, "I'll go refill that."

"I'm okay," Juliet said, shaking her head as she closed the bottle.

"No, come on, you'll get dehydrated."

Juliet rolled her eyes but handed him the water. He smiled.

----

As he walked away Jack allowed himself to reveal the condition he was really in, the one he hid with the smiles and jokes as he assisted Juliet with building her tent. He didn't mind. She was so optimistic and carefree, nearly the opposite of himself, but he enjoyed being around her. At some point, though, he would need sleep. His muscles felt heavier with each step as his body begged for sleep. Eyes to the ground, Jack also battled an exhausted mind frequently asking for a break.

"Jack," Kate's voice announced.

He looked up, surprised. She had been leaving the hatch as few times as possible, understandably. Now she stood, staring at him, having something she was wanting to tell him.

"Can I show you something?"

----

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," Kate said as she led him through the jungle, "really, Jack, I should have, someone should have."

He just wanted an explanation. She had been giving him riddles since he agreed for her to tell him whatever secret she kept. He followed her quietly, hoping for an answer while considering the possibilities himself. After everything they found on the island, he was afraid of what the explanation could be.

"This is it," she whispered as quietly as possible.

Stopping, he looked around. A plane lay fallen on the ground, a beech-craft. Glass and blood could be seen from the crash, lingering on the scene from so long ago. He realized what this place was. This was where Boone was killed. Kate remained silent, as though wishing to pay him respect. He remembered that night- now over ten months ago- and how desperately he had tried to save Boone. And then he failed...Shannon had been so devastated. He himself had been traumatized by the failure, letting himself suffer as he searched for answers. It was the night that started the feud between himself and Locke; he still hadn't forgiven him. He couldn't understand risking someone's life to answer a calling, for belief of fate and faith in an island.

He turned to Kate.

"This is what you had to show me?"

He was more confused than angry. Why was this so important right now?

Kate shook her head and bent to the ground. He watched, realizing what he hadn't before. There was some sort of hatch there- another hatch-. Kate lifted the door, revealing a narrow underground tunnel, much like the first entrance to The Swan they found. Dark, muddy, and abandoned the tunnel stared up at them, squinting in the sunlight.

"Desmond?"

Jack's head jerked towards her. His mouth fell open in surprise and confusion. Kate called Desmond's name as though she expected him to be down there, and sure enough, footsteps were soon heard. They came closer as they climbed the ladder, and Jack stepped back, cautious. He wondered if this was a joke; he wanted to know what was going on. But Desmond's head soon appeared, and the man squinted in the sunlight.

"I don't know as much about computers as Sayid," Desmond said as soon as he saw Kate. He climbed out of the hatch, feet landing on the ground, looking relieved to being back in fresh air. "In fact, I know nothing, I really don't understand why you wanted-"

"What's the verdict?" Kate inquired, ignoring him.

Desmond stared at her, and Jack was becoming aware that they knew something he didn't.

"Nothing happened down there," Desmond replied. Not only did he looked disappointment, but both he and Kate shared looks of fear. Kate looked to the ground.

"Thanks," she muttered quietly.

"Hey brother," Desmond said to Jack, walking away.

He and Kate were left alone. Jack studied her, curious as to what her fearful look meant.

"Come on," Kate whispered. She sounded like she would be sick, so full of dread that it was effecting her physically.

She stepped into the tunnel.

"We're going in there?" Jack asked.

Surely she was forgetting his caution to entering The Swan. How could she think he would enter a new hatch so quickly?

"Yeah," Kate said said. She began to descend into the tunnel.

Jack sighed. Obviously that plan had been well-rehearsed; it was executed with confidence. Jack followed her.

Dejavu hit him as soon as he began climbing down. There was nothing to hold onto but each step of the ladder, but Jack could effortlessly remember climbing down a tunnel just like this, hands carefully leaving each inch of the rope he held on to with caution. Nerves had driven him into a panic, but he remained calm. Though Kate followed Locke into the hatch there was no sign of him or her, not until he reached the bottom and found a pair of Locke's shoes. Jack wondered if this hatch would be as extravagantly built as The Swan. Dirt walls and floors had him doubting this as he jumped to a ground floor as Kate had- as she had a sickening fear jumped up his throat, but she landed gracefully, as though she knew all the tricks to dealing with this place- but he remembered The Swan baring a similar appearance for the first few feet.

Right away he found this hatch would be small. A short hallway led to a small, circular room. But the size of the room fooled anyone with his doubts as he saw what Desmond was talking about. Not computers, but televisions lined the wall ahead of them. He counted nine of them, ancient looking and turned off. Two seats sat in front of the system, waiting for someone to ask where the remote control was. After all he had seen on this island, the televisions didn't throw him off as much as how many of them were there. Nine. What were they for?

Kate stepped up to one towards the middle and turned a nob. Jack watched intently as the screen flickered on, snow clearing to reveal a clearer picture of a room; a familiar room. It was the living room of The Swan. There lay Sawyer, on the hatch. Sun was showing him her baby; he reached up and touched his head, as though he weren't quiet sure how to react to the kid and took on the instinct that it was some kind of pet. Kate was smiling sadly.

"Security cameras?" Jack realized.

"For all the hatches," Kate said, "we assume."

He turned to her, though reluctant to remove his eyes from the screen, afraid he would miss an important revelation.

"You don't know?" He said. Now he understood her and Desmond's fear, not exactly what issue she had consulted his help for, but the importance of this hatch.

Kate shook her head. He watched as her eyes traveled up to a hatch towards the top left. She gazed there silently, looking as though memory had taken over. Jack swallowed, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

"Any particular reason you had to show me this now, today?" He asked.

"Don't you realize?" Kate said slowly, dreadfully. She turned to him and their eyes met, though only briefly as Jack looked back to the living room on the television.

The living room, where Zander was murdered the night before.

"Oh God," Jack whispered, hand falling backwards on one of the chairs as panic overwhelmed him and he lost his balance. "Someone might have seen us."

"I don't think anyone was down here," Kate said, but she didn't sound very reassured, "but they could be lying. Jack...we take shifts down here, just like we did in The Swan."

"And who's shift was it last night?" Jack asked, looking towards her.

"Sayid's," Kate replied quietly.

Silence hovered over them as they took in what this could mean. His hand lingered on the chair, he need more reassurance before he could recover. No one could know what happened. This was supposed to stay secret, that was the plan and it seemed to be working well...until now. And how could they approach Sayid without seeming suspicious? What would Sayid do if he did see the murder?

"There was so much going on last night," Kate spoke up, sounding as though she wanted to reassure both herself and him. "He probably wasn't even here."

"Yeah, maybe." He wanted so badly to believe that. Maybe if he hoped badly enough, that would turn out to be the truth.

"We should go," Kate said, "Desmond's about to go get Eko, and I don't want him knowing we were searching anything..."

"Kate..."

He spoke before he was fully ready, surprising himself with a made up mind that suddenly knew what he had to do. She looked at him, telling him to continue. She was listening. He watched the ground as he decided how to word what he had to say.

"There's something I haven't told you," he wouldn't tell her too much... "because I haven't gotten it figured out yet."

"What?" Kate asked, sympathetic and understanding.

So far she wasn't angry.

"Just something," he hesitated, "and I'll tell you, I promise. I just need...I need you to promise me something."

He looked at her, and they both knew he was serious and that he wanted, possibly needed, her to give him this respect and cooperate.

"When I do tell you, you can't be mad," he explained. Immediately she looked doubtful. "I know that's not fair, but I wouldn't hide something from you without a reason. I'll tell you soon, I promise. You just have to make that promise in return. Please."

They stared at each other for a moment, him trying to convince her doubts. She looked away briefly, but spoke:

"Okay."

Her tone was quiet, as though she still weren't entirely sure this was the right choice, but it was what he wanted to hear, nonetheless. He smiled, grateful.

"Thanks, really-"

"But it's a deal," Kate pointed out, turning back to him, "and you'll hold up your end, right?"

He thought of all he had to tell her, everything he had remembered. What he didn't understand and what he did, things he wouldn't want her to know. But they had made a deal, and he needed her to keep her promise.

"Yeah."

"I should get back to the hatch," Kate said. He swore it seemed as though she were reluctant to break the silence connecting them.

Jack nodded.

"Juliet thought I was getting her some water," Jack laughed.

"You're her servant now?" Kate asked, amused.

"Not exactly," Jack replied.

He didn't really know what that meant, but luckily neither brought the subject up again.

"Let's go, then," Kate said, again with a hint of reluctance. He almost want to inquire on her behavior, but he held back, letting theories answer his question as he began to follow her back to camp.

----

Alex sat in the jungle, staring at the ground. She was in an open space, but she felt as though she could never be found. Memories of her childhood constantly told her there was some kind of mistake. Michael was too much of a friend, nearly a parent, to lie to her like this. And what did this mean, if it were true? Why lie? Why was she separated from her mother? But she didn't want those answers, because she didn't want this to be true.

Rustling from the bushes sent her subconscious pointing towards Michael, who entered the clearing though she did not invite him to.

"Alex-"

"Tell me it's not true," she whispered, eyes still looking at the ground.

"Alex-" he was becoming desperate for her to listen, but she wouldn't. His desperation was only his own guilt, if this were indeed not a lie. But that couldn't be...

"Tell me it's not true!" Alex exclaimed, this time looking at him, her eyes wet with tears and expression hurt.

He didn't answer, and that told her everything. She began to cry, more than just the tears that filled her eyes. As she lowered her head to rest on her hands, she heard Michael walk to sit beside her. He took her in his arms, holding her as he had when she was a child. How could her entire childhood be a lie? All those memories of being happy, despite being constricted to the island, and having the childhood she had...all of it was false. And worse, she would be expected to accept this woman as a mother. She already accepted Alex as her daughter.

"No one expects anything of you," Michael said, despite her thoughts. His words filled her mind with comfort, and she found herself wanting to believe him. She didn't want to explore this new road, not yet. "We don't even have to stay here. But Alex-" he paused, another moment of guilt. Why wasn't she more angry with him? She was, but yet she was accepting him sympathy without argument. She still needed him, she realized. She needed him to be there for her. "She's been looking for you for sixteen years. Maybe...maybe you should at least talk to her."

She wanted to be angry at him. She felt so confused, so manipulated. He'd won a place in her life and made sure of it. Now she was trying to cling to the only life she knew, yet at the thought of that life being a lie, she wanted to hate everything about that lie. And still...

Michael hugged her as she cried, and as she again accepted his understanding, she wondered what secrets he hid.

----

The day was slowly passing, but she was grateful to be moving into the future. Juliet sat outside her new 'house', engulfed by the community she was in. The island, for these people, was like a small town. Everyone knew each other, everyone cared about each other. She loved the idea of it.

"Juliet?"

She froze at the sound of Sayid's voice, a voice she had subconsciously learned to fear. Who could blame her, fearing a person who had hurt her and encourage her being held captive? As she stood she felt small compared to this community, where everyone did care about everyone else...everyone else except for her. She looked at Sayid, waiting for him to tell her some sort of bad news.

"I believe you," he said. She reacted in surprise, eyes widening and muscles relaxing. Then she began to take in Sayid's appearance, his tired eyes, bruised face and hands. "At least enough to let you stay here. But I'm still going to be cautious."

She couldn't think of anything else to say except:

"Seriously?"

It seemed too true that she didn't want to think him just yet. Her hope had been mistreated so many times she wasn't ready to expose her optimism this soon. But Sayid smiled. It was the first time she had ever seem him smile.

"Seriously," he replied, sounding please for her to accept what he had told her, "I'm sorry for what I've done to you, and how the Others have obviously been treating you."

She smiled in return, though sadness clashed with her gratitude. She wished there wasn't a reason to apologize to her, but the truth was that Jack wasn't the only one who was hiding horrible memories.

"I see you have a tent," he observed, changing the subject.

"Yeah," she said, and decided it would be okay to stick with the lighter conversation, "it was pretty obvious why Jack didn't chose to be an architect, though."

Sayid let out a laugh that eased her melancholy spirit. Maybe he wasn't such a bad guy once you earned his trust.

"Like I said, perhaps you can never entirely trust someone," Sayid said.

"How long did it take you to learn that?" Juliet asked.

Sayid didn't respond; all traces of his smile were gone. They had suffered just like she had, and hopefully they would realize they were on the same side.

"Have a good afternoon," Sayid said, and walked away.

Juliet nodded, even though he was gone. Yes, they had all been through too much. She almost could understand their caution, though she couldn't love the steps they took to see if she was trustworthy. She supposed once Sayid saw how much the Others really didn't care about her, how she was treated, and that they really didn't want her around anymore, he saw the truth about her.

She looked up and gazed at the camp behind her, at all the people who hadn't spoken to her but clearly already despised her. She hoped Sayid had a good reputation here; maybe they would believe him. Maybe they would see how much she wanted to be here, how grateful she would be for friends and to be apart of this community until rescue came for them. She only hoped earning Sayid's trust wouldn't be the easy part of being accepted into this community.

----

Piles of notes and journals were tossed about the desk in front of Dr. Campbell. He loosened his tie- they had just held a memorial service for Zander- and flipped through the notebook in front of him. Jack's Shephard's life lay within these notes and observations: his medical history, the most memorable moment of his past, the ones that would effect him now, his family's medical his story, notes on blood pressure and daily medical test taken while in their hands. Everything one would need to know about him. It was research, preparation.

On top of these notes was a letter. The letter sent shivers up his spine, giving him a haunting feeling of awareness to everything around him whenever he read it, because it read so realistically, like Zander was in the room with him. He decided to take a break and read the letter for the dozenth time; he didn't dare misunderstand the instructions within it.

_If you are reading this then I am gone, and I am sorry you must continue this alone. But you knew the conditions of which we were working, the risk I was currently under. Now this project is left in your hands, and I expect for you to continue as discussed. We've done all we can to help him, and now we must move on. It is my advice, my wish, that you move on to step two._

_Good Luck._

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading, and thanks for reviewing!

Until next time...

October Sky


	17. The Theory

Life Interrupted

Chapter Seventeen

**Warnings: **Drug use.

**Chapter Seventeen: **The Theory

"Hey," someone said, breaking into his realm of darkness and memory, "dude, are okay?"

Jack expected sunlight to pierce his vision as his eyes slowly opened, but instead the sunlight of the once cloudless day had drifted into soft colors of pink and purple, painted across the sky in waves of sunset. He sat up, perhaps a little too quickly- his muscles fought at the movement, as they were sore, and it was painful to move- and looked around. The sea crashed before him in waves that reflected the darkening sky above. Flames revealed where people were gathered around various campfires, though they all seemed to form a circle, so they were not truly separated.

"That's how people get sunburnt," Hurley said. He was standing above Jack, looking down at him in concern.

Groaning, Jack stretched an arm out and then pulled it in, the stiffness of his muscles fighting desperately for him to stop. He repeated the movement with his left arm and legs, closing his eyes to fight off the pain.

"You've been asleep all day," Hurley said, "I think everyone was too afraid to move you somewhere else...guess they thought you'd never go back to sleep. Must have been some night, huh?"

"Yeah, you could say that," Jack said, sighing.

An entire day had just passed and he spent it sleeping. While he needed the rest, he felt guilty for being absent on Juliet's first day of staying at the beach. But he did feel better, less drained, though the pain he had fought to ignore the night before was rushing through him in anger of being put aside.

"I mean, you're really pale," Hurley said, "and your face is all messed up."

"Thanks," Jack replied bitterly. The last thing he wanted was dozens of people asking him about what had happened the night before.

"We're about to start dinner," Hurley said, sitting down beside him, "but if you want to talk about something-"

"I'm fine," Jack said.

He just wished he could have the sensation of being asleep again, at least not having to feel any pain.

"Where's Juliet?" He asked.

He looked around, and spotted her sitting by the shore not too far from him. She was staring out to sea, the wind blowing around her. A smile was on her face.

"That chick who you brought back from the Others?" Hurley said. "She's been sitting by the shore all day. Don't worry, I think everyone's too afraid to talk to her."

"Afraid?" Jack said, still staring at Juliet. She seemed so at peace in the world.

"Yeah," Hurley said, "the idea that she might be one of Them doesn't make people want to interrogate her, it makes them want to hide from her."

He turned to Hurley, facing him with a cold expression he had never worn while talking to Hurley before.

"She's not one of Them," Jack said.

"I know," Hurley said, "Sayid told us to trust her."

Now his face contorted into confusion. Sayid was back? And he wanted people to trust Juliet?

"Sayid's back?" He said.

"Yeah," Hurley said, and then pointed behind him, "over there."

Looking behind Hurley, Jack saw Sayid sitting around the campfires, talking with Sun and Charlie. No one in the group was looking his way; Jack wondered if they had missed his presence. But relief sank in when he saw that Sayid was okay, and Jack wanted to talk to him about his new trust in Juliet. He wanted to talk to Juliet too. He also remembered Kate in Sawyer in the hatch. Could he assume that they were both okay, since no one had woken him up?

"Is Sawyer okay?" Jack asked.

"Yeah," Hurley said, nodding.

"Thanks," Jack said, getting to his feet.

"Don't you want something to eat?" Hurley called after him as he walked towards Juliet.

"In a minute," Jack replied.

As he headed towards Juliet, something flashed across his mind. Jack closed his eyes momentarily, trying to shake away the image, but then it became clearer, and the light was really the white walls that had offered setting to the memories that he remembered from his dreams...

_He pushed the door open, the muscles in his legs still in shock from what seemed like a mile's walk from the medical station to the room. He'd spent a couple of days in recovery to avoid this kind of shock, and to build his energy back, but it wasn't the sickness that troubled Jack the most. It was the cure._

_"Jack!" Juliet exclaimed, jumping to her feet. She threw her arms around him with a force that sent him stumbling backwards, and he placed a hand on the wall to balance himself before wrapping his arms around her. It wasn't long before he heard her crying. "I'm so glad you're okay. I was so worried."_

_Resting his head on her shoulder, Jack knew he had thought the same thing, not only about himself but about Juliet. He worried what was happening to her while he was gone. If she was taking his place in whatever it was the Others were doing to him. _

_"Did they hurt you?" Jack said. "Did they do anything to you?"_

_"No," Juliet said, "I swear, Jack."_

_Tears continued to fall down her face, her arms holding him as though she wished to protect him, make sure no one could hurt him. Again, the feeling was mutual. He was relieved to be back and see that she was okay. He had been grateful the Others had let her visit him...which reminded him of what he had wanted to say._

_"It was what you said," Jack said, still holding onto her as he talked, "when you said that if I wanted to get better, I would."_

_"I knew that would work," she said, "Jack, I think I know what they're doing to you..."_

_She pulled away from him, wiping tears away from her face before explaining:_

_"Jack, since you've been here, you've changed," she began. "Everything around you has changed."_

_He looked at her, confused._

_"What?" He said._

_He was anxious to hear her theory on what they were doing to him. He wondered how she had figured it out. Each time he returned from another trip to the other hatch, Jack would tell her what happened; had she realized it from that? Or perhaps it was from his behavior, a symptom she recognized. But he didn't understand what she just said to him. He knew he might have changed, but everything around him?_

_"Things have been happening," Juliet continued, "that shouldn't be happening. It always seems like whenever you want something to happen, it happens."_

_"If that were the case we wouldn't be here," Jack pointed out._

_"I know, I can't figure that out, but listen," she said. She looked at him, and their eyes connected. "You were ill, and you wanted to get better, and you did. And you know how we always joke about the food they have, and how we wish they had our favorite foods? Sometimes that happens."_

_"Sometimes, but that's just coincidence."_

_He was realizing what she was saying, and while some of it was convincing, he found it hard to believe. How could he be making those things happen? _

_"I think they're experimenting on you," Juliet said, "they're finding ways for you to develop special abilities, like making things happen by just thinking it."_

_"That's not true," Jack said immediately. He was beginning to panic. Maybe it was true. The illness came right after he faked being sick that day...maybe he had indirectly made himself ill._

_"Maybe not, but it would explain a lot," Juliet said, "and all these test, all the questions and everything they have done. They have to be doing something."_

_Jack turned away from her, staring at the door. He didn't know what the Others were capable of. Maybe his denial was just him hoping they hadn't been able to do something like this to him. All their test and questions, it had always terrified him. But to think they might actually be succeeding in some sort of experiment...A hand fell on his shoulder, and Juliet appeared beside him._

_"It'll be okay," she said._

_But what if they really had done something to him? They were intruding into his health, his mind. Maybe they didn't care what happened to him as long as they could succeed in their experiment. And what if they had succeeded?_

"Jack?"

His mind spun with memory, oblivious to the present that was talking to him. It was some kind of experiment...something had been done to him. What if they put something inside his head? Suddenly he was afraid to walk; he was afraid of being himself.

"Are you okay?"

He looked up, meeting Juliet's eyes. He tried to brush off his recent revelation of memory, but his words still came in trembling attempts of disguise.

"Yeah," he lied, "Hurley said they're about to start dinner."

"Sayid trusts me."

She looked at him in a way he almost didn't understand: as though she couldn't believe what she had just said, but she wanted to. As he took her statement in, he realized there were two important points: Sayid was back, and he trusted Juliet.

"That's great," Jack said, coming out of his thoughts.

Juliet smiled, though uncertainty was still visible on her face.

"Do you want to get something to eat?" She asked him.

He thought about the memory, and how Juliet had mentioned their favorite foods. He wondered...

"Sure."

----

It was like he had forgotten what sunrise was. One night in the hatch, away from the rest of the world, seemed more like ages away from normalcy. Eating dinner and having normal conversations, watching the sunset and saying goodnight to others as you went to bed...the routine seemed forgotten in his mind. As he walked towards the other survivors with Juliet, Jack found himself nervous and not sure what to expect, like a child being introduced to someone or someplace new. If this was how he was feeling, he couldn't imagine how Juliet was feeling, but when he glanced towards her, she looked content, as though she was looking forward to being introduced to this new place. However, just as they were arriving, a shadow appeared in the darkening atmosphere, emerging from near one of the campfires, and headed towards their direction. Jack soon recognized this person as Sayid.

"Hey," Jack said, "I'm glad to see you're back."

"Me too," Sayid said, with a smile. He looked to Juliet. "If you wouldn't mind-"

"No problem," Juliet said, offering Sayid a smile as she turned to Jack. "Want me to get us something to eat?"

"I can-"

"I'll be fine," Juliet said, the same smile on her face, of curiosity at the task at hand and an anxious feeling of excitement. Jack watched her walk away with confusion in her eyes, not understanding her behavior. She seemed fearless, unafraid of having to face those who, if Sayid and Kate had influence on their thoughts, would so religiously not trust her.

"She seems like a good person," Sayid said, and Jack turned to face him, "I trust her."

"So she tells me," Jack said, wanting more explanation even as he was ready to thank Sayid. "What changed your mind?"

Sayid studied him, as though wondering why Jack hadn't figured this out.

"I was held captive by them," Sayid said, "it was clear they did not care about Juliet, or what happened to her. Of course, it could still be an act. It never hurts to be cautious."

"I know," Jack said, though he knew it wasn't an act. The sooner he told the truth of his memories, the sooner it would be that others fully trusted Juliet. Jack knew he could not wait much longer. "Thanks, you're right, she is a good person."

Sayid glanced away, and when Jack followed his gaze he noticed he was watching Juliet, who was in the kitchen that had been built on the beach, preparing dinner for herself and Jack. She didn't seem nervous at all or intimidated by the people who constantly threw glances in her direction.

"I'm going to talk to some of the others," Sayid said, as they continued to watch Juliet, "I'll see that they giver her a chance."

"Thanks," Jack said again, a little absent-minded, as he was mesmerized by Juliet's fearless personality.

"There was something else I was going to ask you," Sayid said, and he glanced around, as to make sure no one could overhear them. At this Jack turned back towards him, awaiting what Sayid had to say with curiosity the secrecy of the statement. "Even if you don't remember anything, we have her."

Jack frowned.

"What do you mean?" He inquired.

Sayid looked him in the eye, and Jack felt like they were making some kind of war strategy.

"She can show us how to get to their camp," Sayid said. Jack immediately opened his mouth to protest, but Sayid spoke quickly: "You two escaped from their camp, so surely you must no the secret to getting past their defenses. With her knowledge, we can finally stop being the victims."

Jack realized what Sayid meant, and his reaction was immediate disapproval.

"Are you saying you want revenge?" He said, finding himself surprised at the suggestion, though Sayid had made other suggestions like this, about torture and violence, and things Jack wasn't familiar with. A part of Sayid's life, Jack had heard, that he wanted to part with but constantly was faced with on the island.

"I would be surprised if you do not," Sayid said, seeming just as surprised at Jack's reply as Jack was with Sayid.

"I hate them for what they did to me," Jack said, "but I was there for nine months. What if escaping wasn't easy? It was risky, and I don't want to put people in danger. I won't."

"And you don't want to put yourself in danger," Sayid said, his eyes showing understanding, and Jack admitted to himself that Sayid was right. He was afraid of being kidnapped by the Others again. Why shouldn't he be?

"They're more powerful than you," Jack said, "I won't agree to whatever plan you have, and if I find out you're talking to Juliet about this, I won't drop the subject. They're dangerous, and after what we went through, I don't see why you would want anyone to risk going through that."

"What did you go through?" Sayid asked, his eyes searching Jack for any sign of reaction. Jack was careful to hide any emotion, and replied firmly:

"I don't know."

They stared at each other, Jack as angry at Sayid as he had been before. After all the castaways went through during his disappearance, why would Sayid risk going through that again? None of them wanted the Others to get away with all they had done, but Jack knew they shouldn't be asking people to risk their lives for revenge.

At that moment Juliet walked over, carrying two paper plates, looking triumphant as she presented the meal to Jack.

"Here," she said, handing him a plate. "Let's find somewhere to eat."

She looked up, and saw the look of what must have seemed like hatred between Jack and Sayid.

"Are you okay?" She asked Jack, though he knew she must have been wondering what had happened since she left.

"Yeah," Jack said. He turned away from Sayid, dots of the apparent hatred blurring his vision for a moment. "Let's go."

He turned, leading her to a place that would seem unknown to her, but was really just by where their tents stood side by side, close to the ocean.

"We're not eating with everyone else?" Juliet asked, confused.

"No," Jack muttered. She looked at him, as though hurt, and he explained, without the bitter voice: "Has Sayid asked you anything, talked to you about anything that might make you feel uncomfortable?"

"What do you mean?" Juliet said, hurt fading to confusion.

Jack hesitated, gazing momentarily out to sea. It was still amazing to believe that just beyond the ocean lay a world where people did not live on island, fighting the natives and experiencing what they were going through. Each of them had a life beyond this ocean that very few of them knew about. Or perhaps everyone knew each other that well by now. He wondered if this was why Juliet liked to sit by the shore and stare out to sea: was she imagining the life she hadn't been able to see in so long? He thought about the Others and all the had done to her, and he wanted nothing more for them to pay for mistreating her. But there were risks, risk that could mean their freedom.

"I mean about revenge," Jack said, turning back to her, "he wants revenge against the Others."

Juliet stared at him, as though still unsure what that meant. Then her eyes hardened into realms of anger.

"He can't," she said, "it's too dangerous, it's-"

"I know," Jack said, "I told him that at least I hated what they did-"

"So do I," Juliet said, looking angry and offended, as though Sayid's plan insulted her, "I hate them for what they did to both of us, and for what all your people have suffered through. But the risks-"

"That's what I told him," Jack said, secretly relieved Juliet agreed with him, "I just wanted to warn you that he might ask you about escaping from the Others, and what you know about him. If he does, come to me, okay?"

Juliet nodded, looking a little stunned by the conversation they just had as she sat down. He sat down as well, and for a moment they stared out to sea, for the moment forgetting the food that awaited them.

"It's almost hard to believe, isn't it?" Juliet said, her voice and eyes softer. "Our families and an entirely different life lay just beyond the horizon."

Jack smiled sadly.

"I was just thinking the same thing."

Returning his sad smile, Juliet gazed a final time towards the ocean before turning to her food and beginning to eat. He watched her for a moment, and once again found himself amazed by her personality. She was so strong; she had been through so much. Underneath her tough exterior she must be afraid, he thought, and he wondered if that's what the distant gazes he sometimes saw her overcome by meant. She picked up some vegetables with her fork and gracefully ate the food, grateful for the food on her plate. Her eyes looked sad, and that could have been from their recent conversation, but Jack worried it was from fear, from the difficulty of accepting that she didn't have to be afraid here, and that's what Jack wanted her to know. Soon everyone would trust her, and she could become a part of their community. She would have more than one ally, more than one person who cared about her. Jack knew he would always protect her, and vowed to as they took on the mission of blending in with the other survivors.

Little did the castaways know how much they had in common with Jack in Juliet: they were both afraid and hated the Others, they both had a life waiting for them to return. But he realized how little he knew about Juliet's past; his memories had told him nothing about that part of her life. He thought to ask her, but as she continued to eat in silence, Jack decided to let her have that moment of peace. Learning about each other's past was a risk in itself, and for a reason. The secrets people held and how different one could be from another. Sometimes it seemed like it was better to remain strangers. But at one point they must have talked about their past. He wondered just how close they had become...were they possibly more than friends? The thought occurred to him in a moment of panic and with a feeling of stupidity. They had been held captive together for nine months, and they seemed close...maybe closer than friends. What if this was true? Was Juliet waiting for him to remember their relationship? Or did she not want him to remember?

"Your food's getting cold," Juliet pointed out.

Jack glanced down at his dinner, a little in shock to be suddenly taken out of his thoughts. But it was a possibility...maybe there was more he didn't remember than Jack realized.

----

Though the beach was dark when Juliet stepped out of her tent, she glanced in every direction she could see as she made her way to the kitchen that was on the beach. She remembered the layout of the kitchen easily, as she had memorized it as soon as she saw the medicine. There was a small box of it stashed underneath man-made shelves that held various kinds of Dharma soups. As she arrived at the kitchen, and with a final glanced around the beach Juliet was satisfied that everyone was asleep, she kneeled down to the box of medicine. Immediately she found what she was looking for: there was so much of it. Juliet lifted the injections out of the box as though they were a golden treasure she had hunted for for so long. The label flashed in the moonlight, revealing the code she could recite by memory.

She drew a deep breath and took another look around around the beach. If anyone caught her, any trust they had in her would be gone in an instant. Jack told her before the injections had been in the Swan, and thus they would be connected with Dharma.

Her hands shook slightly as she prepared one of the injections. She stared at it as it hovered above her arm, and it seemed to be staring back at her, mocking her, because she had to do this. Then, in one quick motion, she made to stick the injection into her arm.

"What are you doing?"

Juliet let out a gasp of surprise, jumping slightly. She grasped the injection tightly before it could fall from her hands; the needle never made it to her arm.

"I have a head ache," Juliet lied, quickly hiding the injection, hoping that Kate hadn't seen it.

"So what's the injection for?" Kate inquired.

Staring at the ground, Juliet tried to think of another lie. She knew Kate was glaring at her, no doubt her hatred for Juliet's friendship with Jack fueling her anger.

"It's nothing," Juliet muttered.

Kate stepped forward, crossing her arms.

"You're lying," Kate accused.

"I'm not!" Juliet exclaimed, standing up. She stopped herself from saying anything more; she had become too emotional too quickly.

Kate ignored her and peered into the box, finding the injection laying near the top, as though someone had thrown it there. Her eyes narrowed, and she must have recognized what the medicine was.

"What were you doing with that?" Kate demanded.

"Nothing," Juliet whispered, fighting for a way to defend herself. She cleared her throat and said in a louder voice: "it's nothing. Just don't tell anyone, okay?"

Kate didn't agree, but she didn't argue either. She studied Juliet, as if wondering what more she could interrogate her about. Juliet looked away, hoping Kate would simply leave.

"Sayid says he trusts you," Kate said, her voice not less cold, and Juliet turned to her, grateful for the change of subject.

"Yeah," Juliet said, "he says after being at the Others' camp he'll give me a chance."

She trailed off, not knowing what else to say. Kate nodded, but Juliet was sure she was saving disappointment for an argument with Sayid the next day. Juliet searched for another topic of conversation, wanting even more for the conversation to be over.

"How's Sawyer?" Juliet asked, partially to show Kate that she cared and partially because she really did care. She had heard so many stories about these people, and she knew Jack cared about them.

"He's okay," Kate said. A tone of worry immediately filled her voice, despite her reply. "I just came out here for some air."

Juliet nodded. She understood. After being held captive in a room for so long, rarely being able to go outside, Juliet spent every moment on the beach that she could. She loved the smell of the beach, how beautiful it was, the sound of the ocean. She was happy here.

"So what's the injection for?" Kate said. Juliet stared at her, surprised by the return of the subject. "Why don't you want to tell me?"

She hesitated, but she realized what Kate was thinking. She should be giving people a reason for them to trust her, not a reason for them not to. If she didn't tell Kate the truth there was no telling what Kate would do next- who she would talk to about her suspicion. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad if Kate knew...

"It's like an anti-biotic," Juliet began, "if medicine or drugs are put into your system, the injections can clear them out."

"Sounds like an easy way to heal people," Kate said. Juliet was grateful it seemed there would be no argument.

"Kind of," Juliet said. Her voice fell when she remembered how the injections had been used at the Others' camp: they wasn't exactly as great as Kate seemed to think they were. Maybe they would be, Juliet thought, if they weren't used in the way that they were.

"How do you know this?" Kate asked. "We didn't tell you about the injections. Did you find out about them at their camp?"

As Kate continued to speak to her as though she were someone she trusted, Juliet became more tempted to admit the complete truth. No one knew the story about what happened to Jack, and though Juliet knew she wouldn't tell it, the burden of her captivity experience pleaded to be relieved of its horrible memories. She could tell some of the story; she wanted so badly to not feel as mistreated and frightened as she did. If she confessed some of the story she held secret, maybe this load of memories could be lighter.

"They injected me with them," Juliet said, her voice almost a whisper, "and when...if they'd use some kind of medicine or drug, they would use this." She was staring at the ground, avoiding Kate's eyes as she tried to find a way to tell the story without mentioning everything. But she found herself stopping at that point, unable to confess any more without telling the entire story. She was traumatized by the memories she held, and sharing them like this was harder than she thought. It scared her to relieve those memories and to admit they happened to her.

"Did they use them on Jack too?" Kate asked quietly.

Juliet didn't answer. She didn't know if this would cause Kate to assume what the answer was, or what that answer would be, but she refused to reply. She wanted to changed the subject.

"He told me a lot about you," she said.

"About how he feels about me?" Kate inquired. Juliet could detect anger in her voice.

"I guessed that part," Juliet said. "He...he would talk in his sleep. I would hear him say your name and then over and over again he would say 'I'm sorry'."

She looked at Kate, still curious as to what that meant. Jack knew talking in his sleep was a bad habit he had, and Juliet would try not to listen, but sometimes she couldn't help but to hear him. She felt sorry for him and the relationship he couldn't have. But now that they were back at his camp, shouldn't he be given that chance?

Kate looked stunned to hear this, and stared at her in disbelief and fear. Her eyes were wide but something wet sparkled in them, and Kate looked down, blinking away tears.

"I'm with someone now," Kate said, her voice uncharacteristically quiet and broken.

Kate looked away as she tried to recollect her emotions. Juliet felt like she could have punched her, and she almost did. But that would draw attention to them and ask the question of what Juliet was doing out there in the first place.

"Do you have any idea how selfish you are?" Juliet said, placing her anger words. "He really likes you, and the moment there's a problem in your relationship, you go running to someone else."

"That's not what happened," Kate said, voice strong and defensive, her moment of broken emotion put aside.

"Right," Juliet snapped with disgust, "you made sure he would stay missing for more than a few weeks and run to the next best guy."

"That's not what happened!" Kate exclaimed. "You don't know what we went through when Jack was gone!"

"You don't know what we went through!" Juliet cried. Shouting felt good; letting out the anger than might have easily been replaced by pain felt good. "You have know idea what he went through and know idea how it must hurt him to come back and find everything like this! He might tell you he's fine with your decision, but he's not! You know he's not!"

This time Kate didn't argue. She only stared at Juliet coldly, and Juliet return the stare. She feared someone might come and see what was wrong, but no one did. She waited for Kate to reply, dared her to reply. What Juliet said was the truth, and maybe Kate knew this...it could have been why she turned away, without further argument. Juliet stared after her, feeling triumphant. Yet at the same time, she felt as miserable as ever. Yelling at Kate wouldn't cause her to end her relationship with Sawyer, not unless Kate's guilt got in the way. Juliet wondered if Kate felt guilty at all. Judging by her tears when she mentioned she was in a relationship, Juliet thought so, but perhaps she didn't regret her relationship with Sawyer at all.

----

_His arm shook slightly even though he was used to this procedure by now. He stared straight in front of him, not daring to show fear or make eye contact with the others in the room. The hatch looked as it always had, with its small section blocked off for computers and its odd addition of a piano in the back corner, and the chair where Jack would sit in the middle of the room, awaiting the mysterious agenda of the day. The room was the same, but today was different. Ever since Juliet told him his theory about special abilities Jack had begun taking careful notice of everything that went on around him, and today he would take even more caution to what the Others did to him. _

_Dr. Campbell was preparing an injection of medicine Jack didn't recognized. That's what confused him- and scared him- he had begun to realize he recognized none of what was being injected into him._

_"What's that?" Jack asked, still keeping his eyes focused on the wall opposite of him, his arm still shaking slightly. Dr. Campbell acted as though he hadn't heard him. "What have you been injecting into me?" Again, no answer. No one was even paying attention to him. "I have a right to know!"_

_"Knowing would bring a new step into the process," Dr. Campbell said, holding the injection to the light to study it, "acceptance."_

_Without offering Jack a chance to reply, Dr. Campbell began to prepare Jack for the injection, but Jack jerked his arm away. This time Jack glared at him, but he didn't have much time to argue: Dr. Campbell grabbed his arm with grip that might him fight to deal with the pain, and the needle pierced his skin._

A cold sweat rushed over him as Jack woke up, nearly leaping off the ground in reaction to the memory. He was breathing hard, and he swore his arm hurt. He rose his trembling left arm into the air, examining the scars that marked battles he did not know. Amongst these were dozens of tiny dots, and Jack found one where the needle had been placed in his memory. Carefully he lowered a finger to it, his entire body was shaking. When he touched the dot on his arm he hissed in pain. Fear shuddered within him as he closed his eyes and grasped his arm. Even in his memory he did not know what was happening to him. Did he ever know?

Raising the flap of his tent, Jack let his arm go as he stepped into the comforting cool night air. He looked around and saw that no one else was awake. Then he frowned, noticing a shadow sitting by the shore. As he looked closer, he recognized the person as Kate. His mind began to race. He promised he would tell her what he was keeping secret. He knew he should tell her. And with that thought, he stepped forward, and headed towards where she was sitting. She noticed that he was approaching her, and she didn't know she was about to hear his long-kept secret, and everything involved with it. His decision to tell her then was made rather quickly, and he agreed to it before he could change his mind and leave him, and everyone around him, to continue to suffer the consequences.

----

Juliet walked down the beach, the only survivor that was awake in sight. She watched her bare feet as each footprint sketched her path in the sand. She tried not to think; all she wanted to do was soak in the environment around her. For the first time in nearly a year she wasn't locked into a room, and she felt like the world was hers. The injection she had attempted to use earlier was in her hand, and it was as though the further she walked the more her temptation of using the drug decreased. She felt at peace here, but her only complaint was how alone she felt. There were dozens of other castaways in this camp. Why hadn't one come to talk to her? Why hadn't one besides Sayid said that they also trusted her?

"I don't recognize you."

She froze at an unfamiliar voice, a thick accented woman who spoke not in fear, but casually and curiously. She felt like someone had read her thoughts, and she had been caught longing for a friend. Embarrassment kept her frozen there, unsure what to do until she decided to let her eyes trail over the tide at her feet, tracing the sand that greeted the waves, and land on a woman who sat on the shore, discovering who the voice belonged to. The moonlight revealed that she was tan, and long dark hair fell down her back. She hadn't made a camp there, she was simply sitting, gazing out to the ocean, possibly enjoying the serene night as much as Juliet was.

"I'm Juliet," she said. She felt the nervous fear of being introduced to new friends emerging inside of her, but with it came an anxious need to be accepted. "I was with Jack, we were both held captive by the Others."

"I'm sorry," the woman replied with honest sympathy.

Juliet stared at her in disbelief.

"You believe me?" She said.

The woman looked at her, studying her with dark eyes of a mentor offering guidance to someone younger than themselves.

"Today I saw my daughter for the first time in seventeen years," the woman said.

Juliet's eyes widened, and after the shock of the woman's story she fought for something to say. The woman held out a hand.

"I'm Danielle."

Raising her hand uncertainly, Juliet's eyes remained wide in disbelief. She shook the woman's hand, and suddenly she found herself less- afraid, maybe?- of her. Like they understood each other.

"If you don't mind me asking," Juliet began, "were you and your daughter separated on the island?"

Danielle nodded.

"Seventeen years ago."

"I'm sorry," Juliet whispered.

"She was taken," Danielle said, "by the Others."

Juliet stared at the sea crashing near her feet and felt like she would be sick. Seventeen years? Seventeen years the Others had been on the island? And they had taken this child away from Danielle...and had she been on the island all that time? Juliet felt a strong rush of sympathy towards this woman, and as Danielle's story unfolded so did the mystery around it. If Danielle saw her daughter today then where was she now? The girl would be a teenager...

The girl Jack always talked about. The one who would be in the hatch, with Dr. Campbell and Zander. She never really spoke to Jack, but after different exchanges of words Jack had wondered about the girl and if she really believed in what the Others were doing.

"I've seen her," Juliet said, without thinking of the consequences of doing so. What if Danielle had only briefly seen her daughter...when her daughter was with the Others? And who was to say Danielle wasn't one of them...was experience causing her to be too trustworthy? "She was there, with them."

Danielle looked at her, obviously wanting to hear more of the story. But that was all Juliet knew to say.

"I didn't really know her," Juliet admitted apologetically.

Danielle looked away. She didn't speak her disappointment, but Juliet could see it in her face, how the hope that had flickered there moments earlier faded quickly as she faced the sea. She felt sorry for Danielle, and she realized worry about who she was trusting was being dominated by sympathy. A few weeks ago, Danielle was Juliet herself and Juliet was Sayid. Even though Juliet had offered countless reasons why she was not an Other, Sayid hadn't believed her. She understood why.

Juliet felt something sweaty against her palm. She looked down and remembered she had been holding the injection, clinging onto it a little too tightly. She thought about the story Danielle told, and thought about how this was an opportunity to talk to someone. After so long of having only Jack to confine in, it felt odd to be able to talk to someone else. Kate hadn't really counted, she had only wanted information. Any true sympathy she had offered was quickly replaced by anger, maybe even jealousy. She was surprised at how comfortable she felt with talking to Danielle, and wondered if talking to the other survivors would be the easy. Maybe they weren't as terrifying as she thought.

"No one really trusts me," Juliet admitted, "Sayid and Kate thought I was one of them, and so now I think everyone here hates me. It's the first time I've been somewhere since the Others' camp. I'm finally free, and now I have to start all over again."

"Are you one of them?" Danielle asked. Her tone wasn't cold as Kate or Sayid's usually was. Their eyes met, and for a moment, despite her tone, Juliet was afraid he had been wrong about being able to trust Danielle.

"No," Juliet replied, honesty painted on her words.

"And Jack believes you?" Danielle asked.

"Yeah," Juliet said. She looked down at the water near her feet. She was so grateful that Jack believed her, and yet she didn't understand. If he could believe her, then why not Sayid and Kate? "Sayid believes me now too. Not Kate, though. I think she's jealous."

"Jealous?" Danielle asked with an amused smile.

"Jack trusts me," Juliet explained, "I don't know...maybe she thinks I like him or something."

"Do you?" Danielle inquired.

"No," Juliet said. Again, honestly. "I mean, there may have been a time when I did, just because I was flattered that someone cared about me so much. But no, I don't like him, not like that."

Danielle nodded, satisfied with this answer, the amused smile still on her lips. Thinking it seemed okay to talk about more personal topics, Juliet brought up one she had been curious about, but not sure if she should ask:

"What happened?" Juliet said. "Today, with your daughter?"

The amused smile lingered for another moment before fading and her face settled into a regretful, expression.

"When she was introduced to me she ran away," Danielle said, "I haven't seen her since."

"She's just in shock," Juliet said, "it'll be okay."

Danielle stared out to sea, gazing into a world she had imagined for so long, a world where her and her daughter would be a family. Happy, safe. Eyes still fixed on the window into this world, Danielle replied:

"I hope so."

----

He sat down beside her quietly, and she looked up at him. He thought she might interrogate him, but her eyes drifted back to sea.

"How's Sawyer?" He asked, a safe and honest beginning to their conversation.

"He's okay," Kate replied quietly.

The waves lapped around their feet, daring to drench their shoes with the salty waters of the ocean but escaping before their feet jerked away. Jack finally relaxed, taking in the quiet night and the calm sounds of the sea. He wondered how to begin his story.

"Are you okay?" Kate asked him. He realized she was staring at him. "You look like you've been sick."

"I had trouble sleeping," Jack admitted, finding comfort in any words of truth he could offer. Kate nodded, accepting his answer. He stared at the ocean, where the waves sank into the sand before them, reflecting the night in the dark waters of the shore. After tonight, he would have no secrets. His moment of hesitation drifted by like the tide before him: words came to mind and then slowly slipped away, becoming lost in the back of his mind. Again and again the process would occur until he put a stop to it, opened his mouth, and began to tell his story. "I've been remembering things."

He kept his eyes carefully locked on the tide even as she turned to him, her eyes not accusing but awaiting the rest of the story. Settling into a comfortable gaze to the sea, Jack prepared himself for a long confession of secrets. The immediate blow of confession had just hit him, and Jack knew there was no reason to hold back now. He didn't feel particularly different, except for a feeling he couldn't explain that was dancing around in his mind, a mixture of importance and and fear. What he had to say meant something, but he was afraid that exposing this secret to others would make it something much more serious than he ever thought it could be. Now his story would be real, not just something he saw happening in his head.

"Sometimes in dreams, sometimes in flashbacks," he said, "sometimes a lot of it looks the say, like I went through the same routine everyday. They...they were experimenting on me." He waited to see if Kate would speak, but she didn't, the confusion in her eyes telling him she was still listening. "I'm not exactly sure what the experiment was...Juilet had a theory, but I haven't remembered enough to provide evidence-"

"What was the theory?" Kate said.

"She said..." he trailed off, wondering if he should keep that part secret for fear of it sounding ridiculous. But Kate was still awaiting his reply, and he couldn't bring himself to lie to her. "She said I have some kind of special ability."

He wished he hadn't of said that. Embarrassment turned his cheeks a pale color of pink in the dark of the night. When he turned to her he found her looking at him in even more confusion, knees drawn to her chest, her head rested on her arms as she stared at him.

"Yeah..." Jack said, smiling a little as he realized how ridiculous it was that he had even considered the theory a possibility. There was no way he had some...psychic power. It didn't seem realistic at all. It seemed like a child's suggestion for an answer to one of life's greatest mysteries. And yet Juliet had seemed so sure of herself when she confessed the theory. He decided to continue on with the story, searching for memories that would help explain the theory, give any evidence that it might exists. "They used some kind of drug on me, or maybe it was different kinds. They asked me a lot of questions, about my past, about my health and family history. They never told me what was going on."

The confusion in Kate's eyes melted into deep sympathy and concern, and a comforting reassurance that he wasn't alone. She was listening to him, and she wasn't going to be angry with him...not now, at least. Jack took this grateful and felt able to tell the rest of the story, feeling slightly less nervous than before.

"Once I was really sick," he continued, but now he felt a lump develop in his throat, and it was as though the memory of being sick was making him feel ill again. He swallowed and spoke again, his voice more fragile now. "They didn't think I was going to make it. They let Juliet come see me...she said that if I just wanted to get well, I would." His eyes burned into the sea in front of him as he remember what happened next. "And I did, I got better."

"But that doesn't mean-"

"Originally," Jack interrupted, thinking back to the memory he had only days before becoming violently ill, "I wanted to be sick, sort of. I faked being sick because I did want to have to do any test, or anything like that. That was right before I got really sick. It's almost like...I made myself sick."

"That's not true," Kate said, he was a little surprised to see her clinging so tightly to an opinion so soon. But then he also found that comforting, to know that she cared. "That doesn't mean anything. You didn't make yourself sick. That's impossible. You're a doctor, Jack, tell me how much sense that makes."

Jack shook his head.

"Nothing makes sense anymore." Nothing had made sense since the plane crashed and he found himself landed in a real-life nightmare of impossibly realistic horror. Even before then, everything that had happened in the past few years- his father dying, Sarah leaving him- everything seemed so surreal. Suddenly he didn't feel like holding that confusion secret. "It doesn't make sense that we're here, on this island, being kidnapped and fighting the natives...we don't belong here."

Kate turned away from him. Her eyes fell on the ocean, with the intensity of emotion of his own stare, thinking the same things he was. He knew, because she wasn't saying anything to comfort him or change his mind. It was the one thought they could all agree with, and perhaps they didn't speak it enough. He remembered Bernard once accusing them of not caring about being rescued. There was no reason they couldn't be rescued now.

"How long have you been remembering things?"

He didn't answer, because he was angry at Kate for answering the question. He hadn't realized yet that was a part of the story he should be apologizing for, and while she didn't ask the question in an entirely accusing way, Jack still felt like she was mad at him, and she was reminding him of this. He almost didn't answer, but he did for the sake of not wanting to keep secrets. Their relationship needed to be fix, not further harmed.

"Since after Juliet came," he admitted.

Bracing himself for the anger and argument that should come, Jack didn't realize that the night was still silent. He didn't realize it until he remembered: she had almost made a promise.

"Have you told her about all of this?" She asked, her voice still calm and restricting any signs of anger.

"No," Jack replied.

Kate's expression didn't change, but he knew she must feel triumphant, as though she had some kind of social status above Juliet. He wondered if being his friend really meant that much to her, or if there was some deeper reason.

"I'm sorry," Kate said suddenly.

He looked at her. Was this something she had been planning to say or something she said without hardly realizing what she was doing? Her expression gave away neither answer. And...what did she mean?

"What for?" Jack said, and then added: "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Kate shook her head, looking furious with herself.

"The way I've been acting..." she explained, "I've been ignoring you. I've just been so in shock. Everything's happened so fast."

"It's okay," Jack said. He was surprised she admitted to this, especially when no one blamed her for how she had been acting. Maybe he had been a little hurt at some points, but he understood.

"No," Kate protest, shaking her head again, "it's not okay. I mean...we're friends, right?"

At the same moment they turned to each other, their eyes meeting as they realized the horror in her comment, the uncertainty that symbolized the way their relationship had been tilting, threatening to fall off the thread of hope it frantically clung to. They hadn't even been sure if they were friends.

"Yeah," Jack said, "we're friends."

He didn't want there to be any sign otherwise or any evidence that Kate's concern was nothing more than fear.

"Yeah," Kate whispered, "friends..."

He half-expected her to say something else, and half-hope. Maybe they were more than friends, and Kate was ready to admit this.

"And you and Juliet..." Kate said, "are you just friends?"

His mind raced at the surprise of Kate's question, because her curiosity about him and Juliet felt almost as good as a confession from her.

"I think so," Jack said, "I don't remember anything that would suggest otherwise."

Kate didn't reply as she continued to stare out to sea, deep in thought. Possibly about the new opportunity she had. Maybe she had just been worried that he and Juliet had been together, and he just wasn't remembering. His mind was awake at this new hope for their relationship, and suddenly his emotions were jumping to be confessed. If he put the idea into her head, maybe she would recognize similar feelings within herself...

"I'm glad you told me everything," Kate said instead. She looked to him, a smile on her face that was almost sad, pierced with traces of gratitude that mixed in with the tears threatening to form in her eyes. "Thank you."

Jack only nodded. He didn't know what else to say. He didn't want her to be able to guess what he had really wanted her to say. Wounded in disappointment, Jack remained in silence, recovering from what he recognized as heartbreak. Confessing one set of secrets only made room for new emotions and new feelings that would have to remain secret. If he really could make things happen, then why did his relationship with Kate continually fail?

It was like they were trapped in an obstacle course, and every step forward was a new challenge. A path had been set before him by a force that didn't want them together, not unless they could continue to fight everything that threatening to tear them apart. He was ready to fight; he wanted to fight. Only, he feared it would be useless.

His thoughts traveled from his future to Kate to what he had just confessed, not to himself but to her. The moment of feeling different was over. His mind felt a little lighter, but Jack realized confessing everything didn't make the memories go away. For some reason, he realized he had thought it would. But they were still there, every confusing, terrifying memory. And they would only keep coming, the story within them never improving, not until the very end. Would this ever make sense? He wanted to be able to talk to someone and understand. Maybe he and Juliet had found out more information. Or maybe he would be stuck like this forever, stranded in the mist of a life he hated seeing himself live in.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading, and thanks for reviewing!

Until next time...

October Sky


	18. Shipwreck

Life Interrupted

Chapter Eighteen

**Chapter Eighteen: **Shipwreck

He watched through blurry vision as he filled up his water bottle, almost overflowing the bottle with water as his tired eyes barely managed to stay open. Staying awake at night and reflecting on the past never seemed like a bad idea until morning, when you realize time still goes on. The little sleep Jack had the night before resulted in waking up after a nightmare full of memory, and once he had decided to tell Kate about his memories sleep was out of the question. He wanted to sleep, he tried to sleep, but all he could think about was Kate, and what she was thinking. They stayed there, on the beach, until Kate finally stood and said she should go back to the hatch. Jack remained by the shore, watching as night turned into day, his mind still in tune to the darkness of night as the sun rose in front of him. People started to wake up around him, and he knew they were throwing him curious glances, but Jack remained sitting there, still and silent as though he were guarding the camp from the sea. At last Jack managed to escape from the night before and began the new day. Even as he moved around, finding something to eat and drink, exchanging a few 'good mornings', he still drifted back to hours before, when he was on the beach with Kate, confessing the secrets he had once worked so hard to keep.

"Good morning," Juliet said, appearing beside him. She wore a smile and the same clothes she had been wearing since she showed up in the hatch.

"Hey," Jack said, offering her a smile despite his drained appearance, "how was the first night at the beach?"

Juliet laughed.

"I think I liked the armory better," she replied sarcastically.

Jack laughed as well and turned to face her.

"I was wondering," Juliet began, "what do you people do around here? I hadn't thought about it before. I actually don't have something to do. I mean, I didn't have anything to do before, but I was being held captive, I had no choice."

Jack shrugged and glanced around the camp, trying to find an answer. The day always seemed to just go on.

"Have you talked to anyone?" He asked.

Juliet's smile was swept away as she gazed thoughtfully out to sea.

"Yeah," she said, "a woman named Danielle."

Jack nodded.

"Do you remember me saying anything about her?" He said.

Juliet turned to him, and she looked as though she understood what she was saying, but she still couldn't believe it.

"Yeah," she said, "she's been on this island for sixteen years. The Others kidnapped her daughter. Alex."

Jack realized what she was thinking of. Alex had been with Dr. Campbell in the hatch, where they had been experimenting on him. He also realized a promise he had made to Juliet needed to be fulfilled.

"Juliet-"

"Jack?" Sayid said, approaching them. Trying not to appear frustrated, Jack waited for Sayid to continue. "Can I talk to you?"

"I'll see you around," Juliet said, smiling at Sayid as she walked away.

Sayid returned the smile and then looked at Jack, but he didn't look as though he was sorry for interrupting their conversation.

"What did you want?" Jack said.

"How much do you know about Juliet?"

Sayid's eyes darkened, studying Jack as he awaited a response, possibly as though he was trying to catch Jack lying to him.

"I told you, Sayid-"

"I know, we should trust her," Sayid said, "but how much do you know about her, as a person? Where is she from? What did she do for a living? How did she come to be on this island?"

Suddenly his anger over losing the chance to talk to Juliet was forgotten, and Jack remained silent. He realized he didn't know anything about Juliet, nothing except what he learned from his memories. He knew that she was a good friend, someone who he remembered being quiet during his first few memories(though he had been equally as distant), but once they started talking Jack realized that she was someone he could rely on. But he knew nothing about her personal life. Not what her family was like, not where she was from. For all he knew she was married and had kids.

"I don't remember her saying anything," Jack admitted.

"Then what do you remember?" Sayid spoke as though he secretly felt triumphant about catching this flaw in Jack's statement. At first Jack almost admitted to the mistake, until he found an escape.

"That's not what I meant," Jack said, fighting not to speak quickly, desperately.

Sayid remained silent, still waiting for an answer. He didn't believe him. Jack sighed. He had felt safe with only Kate and Juliet knowing his secret; he hadn't counted on his story making its way to every castaway. He should have foreseen this, as the survivors were desperate to learn more about each other, more reasons to not trust one another.

"You're remembering things," Sayid announced. Jack realized his remembering things was actually something he should be happy about, and others would be as well, but he didn't feel that way. Maybe it was because a secret he had held so close was slowly being torn away from him, and keeping this secret almost made it seem like something that wasn't worth being relieved over. The past he had forgotten wasn't coming back to him in tales of happiness and hope, but in darkness and memories frightening enough to want to forget. He didn't want anyone to know about him, but he had already decided on no more lying, too much consequences were being put on others.

"Yeah," Jack said, looking down. He stared at the sand, trying to hide from Sayid's reaction of disbelief...and maybe even anger.

"How long?"

Jack swallowed. He didn't want to go through this again, recounting the same stories his mind had worked so hard to forget. He was almost sorry he remembered, sorry that he had to realize what a horrible period of life he had gone through.

"Since a little after Juliet came," he admitted.

He expected Sayid to be angry and point out every flaw that came from him keeping this secret, but instead Sayid let out a stream of questions, as though Jack had made some discovery that would save the world.

"Then you remember the Others?" Sayid said. "Their camp and their defenses? What are they doing, how long have they been here? How many of them are there?"

"I don't know," Jack looked up, "there's a reason I forgot these things."

To his relief, Sayid seemed to respect this. His determination for answers softened, but Sayid still asked:

"Then you don't remember anything about Juliet?" He said.

"No," Jack said, "why?"

Sayid studied Jack, as though making a last minute decision as to whether or not Jack was worthy of knowing whatever plan Sayid was creating.

"If we found out how she got to this island," Sayid began, "then we could go to the wreckage-"

"You still think there's a radio or something that could work?" Jack said. "Juliet's been on this island for ten months."

"Ten months?" Sayid said. "Then she crashed while we were still here?"

"I guess so."

Jack was just as stunned as Sayid was at this realization, but he couldn't be as excited. While others could receive the recap of what happened to him during the past nine months, Jack remembered every detail. He even remembered how he felt, the fear that had been going through him at the time.

"I think we should take a look at the wreckage," Sayid said, "the worst that could happen is that we would find some maps. Even then maybe Juliet can help us figure out where we are."

Jack shook his head.

"No, we're not going out there."

"Why not?" Sayid inquired, frustrated that Jack wasn't as enthusiastic about the plan.

"They're looking for us!" Jack exclaimed. "Juliet spent the past ten months held captive by them, I'm not going to risk that happening again."

"What if they think you came back here?" Sayid argued. "Is she any safer here?"

"At least here we can be alert," Jack said, "going out there, in the jungle, not knowing what's around us-"

"I assure you, we know what's out there," Sayid said, "there is nothing about this island that we haven't discovered."

"Except where the Others are."

He hadn't planned on being rude, but Jack couldn't help but to agree with himself. Sayid seemed so proud of their knowledge from the rescue missions to save him, yet they had never made any progress.

"Just because we couldn't save you doesn't mean we didn't know where you were," Sayid said. His eyes were dark and angry; he had been offended by Jack's comment.

Sayid even seemed hurt that Jack was angry, and he regretted his comment. Just as the castaways didn't know what he went through, he didn't know what they went through. A few of them had mentioned these rescue trips, and Jack had no idea what had happened on them.

"I'm sorry," Jack said.

"You shouldn't be." Jack looked at Sayid, confused. "I can't imagine how it felt, being held captive for so long, wondering if someone was looking for you."

Thinking about this made him feel sick, as that feeling of hope threatening to be lost returned.

"Look," Jack said, "I don't remember anything about their defenses, or where they are. All I remember is being held captive and what happened to me. I don't want you asking Juliet about this, okay?"

Pausing for a moment, Sayid considered Jack's request, and then nodded. Jack felt relieved. He didn't want Juliet's theory to get out: that he was some kind of psychic. Either people would think that was riddiculous...or it would make them afraid of him. Even more so then they already were.

"What about the shipwreck?" Sayid said. "We know the island, we know how to keep safe. We don't make mistakes."

Jack knew this must be true. After all, no one been kidnapped since Jack, Kate, and Sawyer had. Still he hesitated to agree. No one knew he had been kidnapped just two days ago, when the Others had come to their camp. And the monster...it knew what it was doing, exactly who it was attacking. If it wanted Jack dead, it would kill him. If it found out Jack was still alive...

"You said Sawyer's recovery has gone smoothly," Sayid said. Jack looked up at this; he hadn't even considered needing to stay to take care of Sawyer. "If anything happens, Desmond can help." At Jack's confused reaction, Sayid explained: "He says he had a few years of medical school."

He nodded, remembering Desmond telling him this years ago. But suddenly he realized something.

"Why do I have to go?"

There was no reason for him to go. In fact, there was a much better argument for him to not go. Going anywhere further than the castaway's camp was suicidal...who knew where the Others were hiding, waiting for him. But while Jack thought he had a good point, Sayid looked as though the answer were obvious.

"I figured you wouldn't let Juliet go out there without you," Sayid replied.

Confusion didn't leave him as he took in Jack's words. Sayid's opinion of Juliet seem to have changed so quickly, and now it was like he understood. Now, without the hiding, could they all move past the last nine months?

"Okay," Jack agreed, "I'll ask her."

"Thank you."

Sayid walked away. Jack's eyes drifted towards the sea, immediately finding Juliet sitting on the shore. As he prepared to tell her about his past, he wondered what she was hiding. There was something she wasn't telling him, something she didn't like to talk about. He approached her with caution, carefully stepping into her thoughts as she must have heard his footsteps behind her.

"Hey," she greeted. She tried to smile, but only a sad replica of a grin appeared on her face.

"Hey," Jack replied. He took note of the mood she was in and the sudden change from earlier. For a moment he wondered if she had overheard him and Sayid. It was like she had been expecting him to come and talk to her about this.

"Sayid was asking about you," Jack began, choosing his words carefully as he sat down beside her.

"What about?" Juliet inquired.

Jack hesitated, knowing if he wanted, he could forget this. Maybe he would be protecting her. Or maybe Juliet was hiding information that was worth finding.

"He wants to know how you got to the island," Jack said.

Juliet looked alarmed at the question, and a sudden loss for words hit her like a gust of wind. She froze, her mouth half open in shock. He tried to find reason for her reaction, but came up with nothing. She acted as though she had no idea how to answer and had never been expected to face the question.

"I-" Juliet glanced down to the ground. She must have found her reply there; her eyes remained hidden from Jack. "I crashed."

He realized this should have been obvious; it didn't seem like she had been brought here or came here willingly. But he didn't understand why Juliet was so hesitant to admit this. All of them had crashed onto the island as well. Perhaps the memory was too traumatic to relive.

"He wants to go to the crash site," Jack continued, "to see if there's anything there that can help us."

He realized Juliet was trembling. She stared at him, looking petrified.

"There's not," she whispered.

Her eyes continued to gaze towards him, haunted and afraid.

"Look, even we can just find some maps-"

"There's nothing there!" Juliet exclaimed. Tears were swelling in her eyes. Before he could ask anything else, or confront her about her sudden change in behavior, Juliet jumped up. He watched, helplessly, as she fled into the jungle. He was almost going to let her go, giving her time to overcome whatever she needed to overcome, but then he realized she had no idea where she was going. Getting to his feet quickly, Jack ran after her.

He caught her within minutes of leaving the beach. If her crying hadn't have pointing him in the right direction than he would have found her either way, as she stumbled, desperately trying to find her way through a land she did not know. She must have gone in circles, or maybe she hadn't gone anywhere at all. He grabbed her arm as she stepped backwards, tears rushing down her face as she tried to figure out where she was. She sobbed loudly when Jack caught her. He pulled her into an embrace; she didn't try to run away.

He held her, listening to her muffled tears as she cried into his shoulder.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," he told her.

She shook her head and stepped away from their hug. When their eyes met he found that she was still crying, but through her tears a regretful gaze stared back at him.

"It's not that," she said, her voice shaken from crying, "there's something I haven't told you, Jack."

Even though he had anticipated this he still felt confused; somehow he had led himself to believe that Juliet's life before the island had been free of the drama she was trapped in now. Then she hadn't been a captive; she would have been closer to the person she had been over the past few days, grateful to be at the beach, a smile hardly ever leaving her face. Now, as she gazed up at him, ready to confess her secret, he worried about what she might be hiding, how different her past was from how he pictured it.

"I haven't told you anything about my past," she began, "I can't go to where I crashed here, because I don't remember it."

Silence fell over them just as the music would have sped up, had this been a movie. But this wasn't fiction. There was no music, only their eyes that connected with unspoken disbelief.

"The first few weeks I was there they gave me some drugs," Juliet went on, her eyes wide as they both took in what she was saying, "one of them took away my memory."

She lost her memory...she lost her memory too. Something they did to her, the same thing they did to him...maybe. But she couldn't remember anything. Nothing about her past. She couldn't remember anything about her past...her family, her friends, the people she loved and cared about.

"I'm sorry," Jack said, still stunned by what she said.

She became overwhelmed with tears once more, and he pulled her into a hug. He wouldn't tell her about his memories, not now. But then...if he had started to remember, why hadn't she?

"I want to help," Juliet said, breaking away from the hug, "but all I remember is being with them. I don't know who I am. They did something to me, to us."

"Nothing ever came back to you?" Jack said.

"Just..." she looked frustrated, having to fight to remember even what she had already remembered, "I do remember waking up somewhere beside the ocean. I might have been on a ship that wrecked. But that doesn't help, does it? This is an island, there are beaches everywhere."

"Yeah," Jack said, "but we also know where not to look."

----

No one talked. Jack was still letting this new revelation sink in himself: the fact that Juliet's memory had been taken away just as his had. Maybe his reason wasn't because of trauma; maybe something was done to them. He stood on the beach with Juliet and Sayid. Sayid stared into the distance, contemplating what this meant and probably finding a million solutions. Juliet stared off towards the ocean, looking as though she may cry again.

"You're right," Sayid said, breaking their silence. Juliet remained staring into the distance. "We do know where not to look."

He began to to walk away, and Jack realized he and Juliet were supposed to follow him. He felt guilty for brining Juliet away from her thoughts, he knew she hadn't been prepared to have to deal with this today. Placing a hand on her shoulder gently, he offered her a small smile. They followed Sayid, finding him as he appeared from his tent, carrying a stack of papers. He sat on the ground, and Jack soon recognized the papers as Danielle's maps of the island.

"What's this?" Juliet asked. She sounded curious, but there was still a deeper tone to her voice, as though she were still staring at the ocean, lost in her thoughts.

"Danielle's maps of the island," Sayid replied. A look of recognition flashed over Juliet's face, but only Jack noticed. "You're right, Jack, we know where not to look."

Jack knelt to the ground to get a better look at the map, and Juliet did the same. He then noticed they were different then how he remembered them. There were marks all over them, dots that formed what looked like trails leading to different parts of the island. Other sections of the map were shaded in.

"What's this?" Jack said, repeating Juliet's question as he pointed at the different markings.

"That's where we looked for you," Sayid said. He spoke quickly, as though he didn't want to talk about the subject more than he had to.

Jack and Juliet glanced towards each other, both equally as impressed.

"You searched all those parts of the island?" Juliet asked.

"Yes."

Sayid didn't offer any detail; he continued to stare at the map. Jack also studied the map and realized the trails all led north, where the Others were. He wondered what those rescue missions had been like. But he knew he should be grateful to not have to know. They never found him, or at least were never able to rescue him. How many times had they been forced to go back to camp after searching for him for so long? Jack felt a strong sense of gratitude towards the castaways and wondered how he would thank them. Those rescue missions were hardly ever brought up, and when they were it was with hostility, and Jack could see upon their faces the effects those rescue missions had permanently caused. The constant loss of hope mixed in with exhaustion was clear, but all possessed the same determination they must have always had.

"We could never get to the beaches around here," Sayid said, placing a finger on a beach that was close to the Others camp.

"Why not?" Juliet asked.

Sayid looked up at her, his eyes dark.

"The monster." He looked back down at maps. "And other conflicts. It was all too coincidental. The weather, the monster."

"You think they control the weather?" Jack said, voice expressing his disbelief maybe a little too much.

When his and Sayid's eyes met, Jack wished he hadn't spoken. Sayid clearly believed that theory.

"After all we've seen on this island," he began, speaking with obvious distaste that was clearly difficult to control, "it begins to seem that there is no such thing as coincidence."

Again he looked back down to the maps, ending the discussion. Jack wondered if the others felt the same way.

"That's closer to their territory," Sayid said, continuing as though his original statement had never been interrupted, "if only we can find a way..."

Suddenly Juliet looked towards Jack and asked:

"Can I talk to you?"

He nodded and stood up; they walked a few feet away before Juliet stopped and looked at him. She hesitated, as though trying to figure out what she wanted to say. He looked at her, waiting for her to talk, all the while hiding his mental debate as to when he would tell her about his memories.

"I think there is a way," she said, "Jack, I know I said I was going to wait until you remember, but-"

"I remember."

His sudden interruption sent them into silence. They stared at each other, taking in Jack's confession, and he realized that now he had to explain.

"I've been remembering things," he went on, regret obvious in his voice, "I haven't told you because I wasn't sure what they meant. I was confused, I-"

"Then you know about the experiment?" Juliet said. She seemed more focused on whatever idea it was she had than interrogating Jack about lying to her. He was a little surprised, but preferred this than her feeling betrayed.

"I remember something about an experiment," Jack said, "you thought I was some kind of...psychic."

She seemed insulted that he didn't seem as convinced as she was about the theory.

"It's true, Jack!" Juliet said. "I don't know exactly what they did to you, but-"

"That doesn't make sense!" Jack exclaimed. "That's impossible! It doesn't make sense..."

"Does it?" Juliet said, glaring at him coldly. "I know it's true and you do too, you just don't remember. And that doesn't help right now. But I know if we just go to where the crash site is, if you lead us out there, we'll find it. Maybe if there's a radio you can get it to work."

Jack shook his head. Remembering was one thing, but actually seeing Juliet believe this was as frustrating as it was hard to believe.

"No," he said, "if Sayid can't find a way out there, then we're not going. In fact, we're not going anyway. They're still looking for us and I'm not going to put either you or me in danger."

"But if this is what gets us rescued-"

"No!" He hated that he sounded as angry as he did, and her face fell a little as she was emotionally hurt. He watched, transfixed by his own anger, as she gathered her emotions. Juliet turned around and walked back to Sayid.

"Jack can lead us there," Juliet said, "he knows where it is. He knows how to get past their defenses."

Jack had followed her, and his face lit up in alarm at what she said.

"No!" He exclaimed. "I don't know. What-"

"Yes," Juliet said, glancing towards him and warning him to not interrupt, "he does. He can lead us there, but you can't ask questions."

Sayid glanced up to Jack.

"Is this true?"

"It's true," Juliet answered before Jack could say anything.

She looked at Jack. Even if he was in denial, Juliet would agree to go to look for a shipwreck that was in a location they weren't even sure of. Apparently there had been bad luck going towards these places, and she may be in danger from someone or something other than the Others. Jack sighed. Maybe she was right; maybe he could agree with her for the sake of keeping her safe.

"Yeah, it's true."

----

_He had some bad experiences in his life, had been caught in times he wasn't sure he would ever escape from, but just when he thought he had lived through the worse, Jack was met with this. Eyes to the floor in front of him, Jack kept himself awake with the thought that Juliet might actually come to a realization about something as she paced the floor. Drained, Jack's eyes fluttered closed every few minutes, hoping for sleep, but he attempting to stay awake._

_"I wonder if there's more than you than there are of them," Juliet said, "and you said there was a boat-"_

_"Stop saying this stuff out loud," he said, absolutely overwhelmed with exhaustion. He would need sleep soon. For the past three weeks the Others- or rather, only a few of them- had interrogated him to find out information about his health and family histories. He was forced to discover memories long forgotten of nearly ever cold he had as a child or something that happened that would have effected his health. When Jack had trouble remembering the interrogations only went on longer, the questions more specific. He needed to get out of there and get back to camp, which couldn't be done of Juliet revealed every hope of rescue there was._

_"You think they're listening to us?" Juliet inquired. She suddenly sounded panicked, and he was glad; maybe now she would stop announcing escape plans out loud. He knew she was excited about the possibility of escaping captivity, but they had to be careful. The Others pulled secrets of their camp from no where as a magician revealed multiple tricks from one act._

_Jack didn't answer; Juliet kept pacing the floor. _

_"Have they taken you anywhere outside the camp?" She said. He wished she would realize how much he had started to hate being asked questions constantly like this. Once again his eyes drifted to a close. This time Jack remained in darkness, replying with his eyes closed._

_"No."_

_He would fall asleep any moment, and now he was hardly making an effort not to. He was grateful to feel this tired. Most of his nights were spent thinking about Kate and Sawyer and if they were safe, and the rest of the people back at the camp. He couldn't help but to wonder if they were worried, what was going through their minds. They had only known each other for three months, but those three months had brought them together and made them dependent on each other. They fought to keep themselves and each other safe. They had grown closer than they would have ever thought that day they boarded flight 815. And Kate...suddenly he felt sick; the fear he had for her and Sawyer was enough to make him feel ill. Guilt and worry had turned him quiet and distant, though he demanded answers whenever he could. He was never told anything._

_When he opened his eyes again, these thoughts pushing sleep away like rest was a gift he couldn't afford to buy, he found himself looking into the eyes of Juliet. She knelt down in front of him, her eyes watering with desperation for answers._

_"What kind of people do they look like?" She asked, her voice soft and weak, as though she were fighting off crying. "Do they look like government people?"_

_"You know as much about them as I do," Jack replied in his tired voice. Her eyes didn't change from that desperate state. "No, I don't think they're government."_

_Trembling with tears, Juliet stumbled backwards and sat against another wall. She stared at the floor, deranged looking as she shook her head. Soon he heard her crying quietly. He thought of what he should tell her and how to reassure her that there was hope. Maybe Sayid could still find them. _

_"Juliet-"_

_A silent sigh interrupted him as all the emotion Juliet had been holding in left her. He realized she had drifted off into sleep. He sat there for a moment, staring at her, and feeling sorry for both himself and her. The only way to get rest, it seemed, was to cry yourself to sleep. But Jack closed his eyes, determined to end this tradition. With a final effort to block out his thoughts, the last thing he remembered before falling asleep was hoping that rest- and rescue- would come._

The ground bounced in front of him in a way that would have made him dizzy, had Jack not been lost in this latest memory. Sandy shores had turned into rocky land that they had to climb over. As the day went on the sun became hotter, and the effects of the weather could be seen on the sweat on their faces and exhausted appearances as they entered new land. But they never stopped, and Jack took shelter in the memory that had just come to him, a memory of exhaustion and desperation for rescue and answers. Juliet had been interrogating him about the government...she was wondering if that's what Dharma was, some kind of government group. She started to cry.

"We should take a break," Sayid announced. He didn't wait for anyone's objection as he took off his backpack and grabbed a bottle of water. Jack and Juliet stopped as well, Jack forgetting to come back from the memory of his past.

"Are you okay?" Juliet asked him.

"Yeah," Jack replied; he even sounded like he was mentally returning to the present day. Juliet looked at him as he shifted time periods, becoming aware of the salty smell of the sea and the jungle that sat behind him. Juliet smiled. Jack returned the smile and looked towards Sayid, who looked to be lost in his own thoughts. He was gazing out to sea, as though the thought of being on this beach brought back a world of memories.

"I just remembered something," Jack said. He was coming to the realization that he didn't have to be confused anymore, Juliet could help him with the parts of his memories that Jack didn't understand. "It was three weeks since they kidnapped me, and you were asking me questions. You were wondering about how many of us there were, and if someone could find us. You asked me if they had taken me outside their camp. You wanted to know if the Others looked like they could be from a government."

"Why would I want to know that?" She said, her face contorted into confusion.

"Well, we'd know more about who they were," Jack said. He drink some water, letting the cool liquid wipe away the memories of feeling so drained. "But you were almost in tears when you asked. In fact, you did start crying."

Now she was looking at the ground, trying to figure this out. Sayid didn't seem to be hearing what they were talking about, and Jack waited for Juliet's opinion.

"I remember that," she said, "but I don't understand why..."

She sat down on the ground, and he sat down next to her. He understood, or at least he understood what she was going through, but it was still hard to put into words what it felt like to have memories taken from, and for Juliet, memories from her entire life before the island. He offered her a smile, hoping this could bring some kind of comfort to her.

"What I don't understand," her voice was less strained now as she focused on what she had to say, "is why you're starting to remember things and I'm. After all this time all I've seen are flashes, just waking up on the beach after some sort of crash. Do you think it's something they gave us? Maybe some sort of drug that controls our memories..."

An amused smile slipped across Jack's face before he could stop it, and he immediately offered an argument.

"Controlling our memories?" He said. "No...that's impossible. That would require extremely advice medical and scientific research and capability."

"You shouldn't be fooled by the fact this is an island," Juliet reminded him.

"I know," Jack said, "it's just...it doesn't make sense. They kidnap people and run experiments on them? They can't be government people."

Juliet shrugged and gazed out to sea.

"We should go."

Jack and Juliet stood up to see Sayid, who had simply announced that they should continue their search, and yet his face said more, like he had overheard their conversation. He glanced towards Juliet, but she only stood up and began to follow Sayid down the beach.

----

When he started to remember things, Jack had begun to realize that he wasn't only remembering what happened to him, but he was getting that part of his life back. It was like he had never lost his memory, and when he remembered something he could remember how he felt, what he thought was happening, and what he was afraid of. He was beginning to see the world as though he had just come out of nine months of captivity. One of these new views of the world was the concept of weather. He couldn't remember the sun being this hot on the island or the way it made you feel as though any moment you would collapse and be defeated by exhaustion. Jack was starting to question his decision to come; he was doubting his ability to do complete trips to the other side of the island, a journey that, nine months ago, he had been able to make without much struggle. Every time they entered a new section of the island Jack contemplated turning around, and every time he forced himself to keep going he was met pain that begged him to reconsider, and exhaustion that reminded him of the lack of sleep he had the night before.

He glanced towards Juliet, who seemed to be in better shape than he was. Her pale skin was becoming gradually a shade darker from the sun; he noticed her shoes were beginning to fall apart. But despite the fact that she had spent ten months locked in a room, she seemed to be adapting to the outside world effortlessly. He envied this, and each time he tried to discover her secret of success, he remembered Juliet's gratefulness for freedom. That was what was missing from the results of his memories. Though Juliet lived every moment grateful to be alive and away from captivity, Jack felt frustrated with the situation he was in. He struggled to understand what he was feeling and cope with his lack of control. It felt so weird to see himself in a position where he couldn't control what was happening or going to happen. Even back at his camp, Jack lived with the unwanted feeling that his fate was already planned for him and that no matter how much his life had changed now that he was back at camp, he was never going to be able to move on.

"What's that?"

Abruptly snapped away from his thoughts, Jack looked up, confused, trying to understand what Sayid meant. Sayid crept forward cautiously, though Jack saw nothing ahead except for more sand and ocean. He glanced towards Juliet; she shrugged, confused as well. Sayid dropped to his knees and began to pull something out of the ground. Tiny golden beams of light suddenly flashed and front of him, and Jack saw what Sayid had found: a ring.

"Do you recognize this?" Sayid asked Juliet.

Juliet shook her head, staring at the wedding ring in Sayid's hand. Sayid frowned, as though that wasn't the answer he had been expecting.

"Let me see that," Jack said, and Sayid handed the ring to him.

Tainted with particles of sand, the gold ring was probably a shade lighter than it normally would have been. Black spots where color had been stripped away stood out against the shiny gold that painted the rest of the ring. He turned to Juliet, and took her hand. Then, ignoring her confused expression, he slid the ring onto the appropriate finger on her left hand. The ring fit perfectly.

"I'm sorry, Jack," Juliet said, smiling in amusement, "but I don't think I want to marry you."

"The ring fits perfectly," Jack said. Their eyes met. Juliet didn't remember anything about her life before the island. She could have even been married.

"It's not mine," Juliet said, quickly and desperately removing the ring from her hand and nearly throwing it back at Jack.

She began to walk forward, without waiting for Jack or Sayid to follow. Sayid glanced towards Jack, who stared towards where Juliet was. Did she not want to confront the idea that she might have been married and didn't remember her husband? Or did she remember, and was it too painful to talk about? Juliet's sudden departure startled him, and he began to consider a number of possibilities. He had lied to Juliet about remembering things. Was she doing the same?

"Jack!"

Juliet's shrieking cry reached him with a tone of panic. He and Sayid raced forward, and they didn't need to look very far as they found Juliet standing just around the corner of where they had been before. She was staring at the wreckage of a boat. Simple, and slightly small in size, the boat looked like it had belonged to a family who liked to go out on a lake or ocean on the weekends. However, feelings of relief from the stress of work and school, laughing and the joy of being with family couldn't be found in the wreckage. Luggage had poured onto the beach after the boat had turned on its side when it crashed to the island. A life jacket, stained with blood, lay abandoned on the ground. While Jack took in the wreckage Sayid stepped towards it, eyeing the few bags of luggage and supplies scattered across the sand. Juliet stood in silence, shocked and terrified.

"Jack." Sayid said suddenly.

Turning around, Jack saw Sayid holding a picture of a man in his early thirties. He had short brown hair and a bright smile.

"I was supposed to burn that."

He and Sayid looked towards Juliet. She was staring at the picture, eyes wide in shock, face pale, and she looked as though she had just realized something that terrified her.

"I'm so stupid," she continued, "I...I couldn't. I couldn't get rid of a picture of him like that."

She looked up at Jack, horrified. To Sayid this was just insight into Juliet's life, but Jack knew this was much more than that. Her memory was coming back.

"This was your husband?" Sayid inquired, showing her the badge.

"Yes," Juliet's eyes never left Jack, "they wouldn't tell me...all they said was that I had to leave. Someone came to my door, told me my husband was dead, and told me that I had to get as far away from there as I could."

Tears began to appear in her eyes. A loud scream escaped her and she dropped to her knees, still crying out in horror and despair. She held her head with her hands cried, arms shaking as memory poured back to her and she was caught in a whirlwind of overwhelming anguish. Jack didn't know what to do. Sayid stood in silence, apparently thinking the same thing. Was all of her memory coming back or only pieces? But each was equally as worse. Jack approached her and sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her towards him in an embrace. She cried into his shoulder for the second time that day.

"Jack."

He closed his eyes; why did Sayid have to discover something else about the wreckage now? They did what they came to do. They found the wreckage, and he now knew how Juliet ended up on this island. She knew too.

"Jack," Sayid called again.

Jack opened his eyes and saw Sayid standing behind Juliet. He held a radio in his hands. Still crying, Juliet lifted her head and turned towards Sayid. She gasped when she saw the radio. Her eyes stared, mesmerized, by a new hope of rescue. Slowly peeling herself away from their embrace, Juliet took the radio in her hands. Then their eyes met again.

"You can fix this," she said in a weak whisper.

"No, I-"

She shoved the radio into his hands. Jack sighed.

"What I'm I supposed to do?" He said, staring down at the radio.

Juliet's cries had now ceased. The tears in her eyes sparkled with hope after enduring months of helpless emotion. He didn't want to disappoint her; if he did this- whatever he had to do- he had to succeed.

"You want us to get rescued, right?" She said. He nodded. "Think about that."

He was confused, but he didn't question her. He just thought about rescue and going home, being in a safe place. He thought of everyone's family and friends and how being so far away from them still haunted them all. He wanted rescue to come, and he felt as strong about that now as he had the first day of the crash. Hope stirred within him so quickly that he almost felt sick in anticipation of hearing a voice come through that radio and of hearing they would be going home.

Then a soft crackling noise came from the radio. The three of them stared in silence. He wanted them to be rescued...he wanted to go home. It sounded as though someone was struggling to be able to talk to them. The radio was coming to life stronger and stronger by the moment.

"Hello?"

Jack's eyes widened in he let out a gasp of surprise. Juliet's hand grabbed his arm, clinging so tightly to him that it became difficult to hold on to the radio. Sayid looked like he wanted to say something if Jack wasn't going to speak soon; Jack knew they were waiting for him to talk.

"Hello," he said, "we're...we're survivors of Oceanic flight 815." Excitement threatened to stop him from speaking in a comprehendible voice. There was a pause, and Jack was about to speak again when the person on the other line replied.

"Jack?"

Juliet began to let out a scream, but Jack placed a hand over her mouth. The radio dropped to the ground. Jack stared at the phone in fear; he could hear Juliet struggling to not scream. Sayid looked at them both, not understanding. They would be the only ones who would recognize the voice of Dr. Campbell.

He released his hand from Juliet's mouth. Shaken and as afraid as he was, she said what was going through Jack's mind:

"They know where we are!"

Eyes still fixed on the phone, fear paralyzed him as Jack thought about what this meant. Juliet spoke again.

"They know where we are."

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading, and thanks for reviewing!

Until next time...

October Sky


	19. A Warning

Life Interrupted

Chapter Nineteen

**Chapter Nineteen:** A Warning

When one made a decision one of two consequences would be the result: either the choice would prove to be correct and maybe even helpful or the decision would prove to be fatal or at least bring devastating consequences. Jack proved the consequences of his decision to find the crash site would be fatal. Sayid was leading them into the jungle based on a promise that he knew exactly where he was going, but each step brought more doubt. If he hadn't been able to make the right decision earlier than how did Jack know he had made he right one now? He understood Sayid's reasoning that the Others might think they took the beach straight to the crash site and they would therefore also search the beaches, but Jack couldn't bring himself to relax and trust that Sayid knew where he was going. Juliet nearly clung to his arm as they walked, never daring to step a foot away from Jack. Their fear was no longer hidden; it could probably be detected from a mile away.

"How do you know the Others don't know of these other trails?" Juliet inquired. She sounded terrified.

"When we put together search parties we were very careful," Sayid explained, "we were careful about where we went and made sure they couldn't find us."

"But what if they did?" Juliet said. "What if they know everything you guys did? What if they've been following you?"

"Then we would have been taken too."

Juliet looked down to the ground. Studying her reaction, Jack decided she was acting as though she knew something Sayid didn't. He frowned; he had no idea what that secret could be.

"Trust me," Sayid continued, "I know exactly where-"

A loud roar cut him off and the three froze. Jack, paralyzed with memory of the monster who must have figured out he was still alive, almost didn't hear Sayid's order to run. When at last his body understood the command he chased through the jungle after Sayid and Juliet, following Sayid to some unknown hiding place. He hoped there was a hiding place. Branches tore past them as they ran, racing down the path Sayid claimed he knew well. All Jack could think of was his encounter with the monster just a couple of nights before, and how he could be putting himself and the other two in danger. He was still supposed to be dead. Suddenly Sayid slowed down, and Jack panicked. Were they lost?

But Sayid was leading them to some type of hidden ditch. The ground was curving to a valley they lay beneath the trees of the jungle, cutting into the earth so that a deep cave-like space was left for them to hide in. Nearly stumbling into the ditch, Jack fell to his knees beside Juliet. Her knees were drawn to her chest and her entire body was trembling in fear. Her pale face made her look as though she were already dead. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, but she acted as though she hadn't noticed, gazing up to where the sky was visible beyond the earth that hid them. Eyes dancing around empty air, Juliet was too lost in the terror she must have been feeling to notice either of them were there. He realized Sayid's eyes were wondering in that direction was well, gazing out to the world above them where the monster could find them at any moment. The usual concentration and determination to not be distracted by fear buried itself in Sayid's eyes, and Jack watched as he listened intently for the monster. Sayid then made a sudden movement to stand.

"No!" Juliet exclaimed quietly. "It could be hiding!"

"It can't hide," Sayid explained quickly, "it makes a kind of noise, almost mechanical. There's no way it can sneak up on you unless you are not being cautious."

Jack trusted that Sayid was still being cautious as he climbed out from the ditch. Silence filled the air now, a horrific, haunting silence that was the echo of the monster's roars. The silence was the fear that stirred within them, kicking at their conscious minds and making them sick with anticipation for something horrible to happen. Nothing happened, and the silence continued. Becoming restless at the constant buzz of silence, Jack began to step out of the hiding place. He immediately felt someone grab onto his hand. Juliet's eyes met his when he looked down; her deathly white hand clung to his arms with the same shaken fear that was in her eyes. Their eyes met and Jack took her other hand with his hand.

"Sayid?" He called quietly.

"The area's safe," Sayid replied confidently.

Juliet still looked uncertain and too captured in shock to believe him. Carefully he helped her stand though she looked only half-aware of doing so, and they climbed back into the jungle.

"You really think it's gone?" Juliet asked.

She sounded like a frightened child, but suddenly Jack imagined her as a married woman, probably never thinking she would be in a situation like this.

"Yes, but it would be best if-"

A sharp sound as though a quick gust of wind flew past them punctured the air, cutting off Sayid's sentence. Sayid stood there, frozen for a moment, and then stumbled forward before collapsing to the ground. Eyes widening, he and Juliet rushed forward to help him. Jack found the dart that had hit Sayid's neck just as a similar dart struck Juliet. She fell backwards and he quickly moved to help her as she lay on the ground, shaking. Her eyes darted around his face in fear. He shook of the shock of the sudden attack and reached down, though he hesitated as he wondered if pulling out the dart would be harmful to her health. He realized he was hesitating to long, Juliet had already been shaken into an unconscious state. Jack took out his gun and swung it around carefully, determined to find out who did this.

"Put the gun down, Jack."

His gun swung towards the direction of Dr. Campbell's voice. Suddenly Jack began breathing more heavily than he should have been, letting out a gasp of surprise at the sound of the doctor's voice.

"This can all go by more quickly than you think," Dr. Campbell continued.

Jack spotted the man approaching the scene from the shadows of trees up ahead. A gun was in his hands as well.

"I just want to talk to you, Jack," Dr. Campbell went on. Jack's gun shook slightly in his hands. He was tempted to shoot, to at least make sure he could do no further harm to his friends- or to himself. But he found himself unable to pull the trigger. Though he had tried to take control quickly he was now frozen. Fear crawled through him. "Listen, Jack, I thought you'd understand by now that we're doing this to help you. You're probably experiencing some serious side effects by now. You walked out on an experiment in progress. Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"

"You were holding me captive," Jack replied darkly, "I don't care about the experiment."

What did 'side effects' mean? Was there any truth to Juliet's psychic theory? If there was, if he could make things happen, he should be able to get out of this...

"I'm willing to compromise," Dr. Campbell continued. He gazed towards the sky in a thoughtful pause of silence. "I suppose we can still continue the experiment, for the time being, while you're at your camp. You have to understand, Jack, I really do want this to be as painless as possible for you. I'm still considering all options so I could use a little time to figure out what I need to do. But in the meantime...well, actually, you really should come back with me, Jack. Honestly it's dangerous letting you go off on your own with this experiment in progress. No, I think you need to come with me."

Jack watched for a moment as the doctor stepped towards him, but then he realized what he was doing. He couldn't sit here and let this man kidnap him again. Quickly Jack got to his feet, thinking of a plan. He needed to get out of this. He couldn't lose all he had earned in the past few weeks. He wanted to be able to go back to his camp, to find that Juliet and Sayid were safe.

"If I let you go back to camp," Dr. Campbell began. Jack heard himself breathing heavily, surprised but not about to stop the doctor from obeying the request he was mentally asking. "Just remember what I told you. You don't really know what's happening to you. If it were me, I'd want to be with the people who could control what was happening to me."

Shrugging, Dr. Campbell turned around. He began to walk away. His eyes wide Jack watched as the man walked away, trying to process the idea of one of the Others just walking away from him. And that was after he had pleaded in his head to be able to go back to camp...was there truth to Juliet's theory?

He heard a groan of pain and was shaking from his thoughts by the sound of Sayid regaining conscious. Still recovering from the shock of seeing Dr. Campbell again- and not being kidnapped- Jack turned to help him but was clearly still trapped in the past.

"I'm okay," Sayid told him. He waved a hand towards where Juliet lay, and when Jack looked over he saw that she too was regaining conscious. He rushed over to help her, grabbing her shoulder to keep her from sitting up too quickly. Her face was paler than before, her skin a sickly white that was drenched with sweat.

"Jack..." her voice broke, defeated by a fit of coughs.

"You're okay," Jack told her. Carefully he lowered her back to the ground.

"No, Jack..."

Face contorted into confusion, Jack followed her eyes to where her hand was clutching his arm. She was shaking uncontrollably. Jack looked over to Sayid. He seemed fine; there was no similarity between Juliet's symptoms and Sayid. He told himself to remain calm, and he tried not to appear too panicked when he turned back to Juliet.

"We need to get her back to camp," Jack announced.

Juliet's now freezing cold hand tightened harder around his arm. Her fingers sparkled with perspiration.

"Drugs..." she swallowed hard. Suddenly she looked frantic, as though desperate to tell him some kind of message. "Drugs they put in me..."

"Calm down," Jack instructed in a reassuring tone, "this is just a side-effect..."

_"You're probably experiencing some serious side effects by now. You walked out on an experiment in progress. Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"_

How did he know Juliet wasn't being experimented on as well? He might have no control over her health. Maybe he should have listened to Dr. Campbell.

"Do you know what the drugs were?" Jack inquired.

"Experiments..."

Turning his head he met Sayid's eyes, both of them equally as disturbed by Juliet's explanations.

"Do you know anything about this?" Sayid asked. He got to his feet and stood beside Juliet.

"No," Jack said, searching what memory he had left from his captivity for answers, "just the experiment part. I have no idea what it was about."

"Jack." Juliet spoke in the desperate tone of someone who was dying. He shook the thought from his mind. She wasn't dying; this couldn't be that bad. "You can help..."

"Do you know what the drugs did?" Jack demanded.

Juliet was shaking her head frantically.

"Help..."

He could feel his own arm shaking as her trembling fingers held onto his forearm. They needed to get her back to camp; he had to find someway to help her, someway to find out what was wrong with her. He carefully reached down and took her in his arms, and he almost became sick when he discovered she felt as though she weighed nothing. Jack attempted to clear his mind, focusing solely on getting Juliet back to camp safely.

----

As they rushed past the living room, Juliet still being carried by Jack, he noticed Kate and Sawyer talking. Sawyer looked better than he had in the past couple of days, and Jack noted the irony in Sawyer's progression in health while at the same time Juliet was sick. He heard Kate following them into the bedroom as he and Sayid sat Juliet on the bed. She never flinched as Jack lowered her head to the pillows. Though her eyes were closed her skin still trembled; she was still cold and pale.

"You think the dart might have disturbed the drugs already in her?" Kate was saying to Sayid.

"It's a plausible idea," Sayid replied.

"But if they knew the drugs were in her why would they do that?" Kate pointed out. "Why would they mess up their own experiment?"

"She's not with them anymore."

Sayid and Kate looked at him as Jack suddenly cut into their conversation. He avoided their eyes, not offering further explanation before his eyes fell on Juliet once more. Running a hand over his head, Jack let out a sigh. Only to himself would he admit that he had no idea what to do. Sayid's theory was indeed possible, but even if it was he had no idea what to do next.

"I just wish I knew what the drugs were," he said, speaking his own thoughts to himself, "her behavior hasn't seemed off at all."

"Can I talk to you?"

He looked up at Kate, confused by her request, but he stood nonetheless. He followed her out of the bedroom and into the hallway that would lead to the living room. She stopped before they reached where the hallways and adjacent rooms met. Hesitant, she turned to him, silence passing for a moment before she spoke.

"Your behavior hasn't been off either," she began. "I mean, nothing that wouldn't be normal after being through a trauma like this. Didn't you say they experimented on you too?"

He hadn't thought about that. Kate was right.

"Then I don't understand," Jack admitted, "how can that be possible? If they were giving us drugs, possibly the same drugs multiple times, you'd think we would be going through withdrawal." In unison they turned towards the bedroom, where Juliet lay ill. "Maybe she already has."

"Jack..." he looked to her, waiting for her to continue as she again hesitating. She acted as though she was hiding something, and for that moment Jack felt angry. How could she keep secrets from him after he confessed to her last night? They had practically sworn to not keep anymore secrets. "I saw Juliet in the kitchen at the beach last night. She was looking through where we keep the medicine. I saw her take out some kind of syringe, like she was going to inject herself with something."

Immediately his mind buzzed with reaction to Kate's confession. Now Juliet was keeping secrets from him. It was always possible that Kate hadn't understood what she saw, but if she had understood...what did this mean about Sayid's theory? Was Juliet going through withdrawal? Had she possibly found drugs here that would help the pain subside? He couldn't even ask Juliet now...he felt like screaming in frustration. Why did things always have to be complicated on the island? If someone was already hurt why did that have to be followed with Jack being put through some unnecessary test in order to be able to save them?

"Jack," Kate called to him, bringing him away from his thoughts with her worried tone. His eyes met hers, her eyes looking haunted. "The injection were the ones from the hatch. The ones Desmond used."

"You mean the ones he used for years and there was no effect?"

He was surprised himself by his lack of reaction to Kate's terrified tone, but as soon as he considered this there was more to contemplate. Why was Kate suddenly so worried about Juliet? She was hardly concerned when Sayid had Juliet locked in the armory for almost a week.

"Maybe mixed with the results of being hit with that dart caused some sort of reaction that led to her being like this," Kate said, suddenly sounding defensive, "Jack, something could seriously be wrong with her."

He wanted badly to demand to know why Kate was suddenly so interested in Juliet's health, but he had to remind himself of how unfair that was. Maybe Kate had considered that Juliet was no longer the enemy. She could even just be caring about someone.

_"Do they give you any drugs when you go in there?" He asked Juliet._

_She looked up from her spot across from him._

_"Yeah," she admitted, "they did that to you too?"_

_Jack nodded. He looked exhausted, both mentally and psychically. Sighing, he looked to the floor, welcoming all theories of what was happening. He needed to figure out what was going on._

_"At the end of it all," he said after a pause of silence, "after giving me different drugs, taking notes...they gave me another drug. It was some kind of injection. There were numbers on the side of it, some kind of code I didn't recognize."_

_"They gave that to me too," Juliet said quietly. "The other day I told them I was getting dizzy...my vision was all blurry, but I know it was that same injection they gave to me. I'm not sure how long later, but all those symptoms went away. I think it had something to do with that injection..."_

His sudden look of surprise and confusion wasn't just at the random new memory, but at the fact the memory came exactly when he needed it.

"Jack?"

He looked up at Kate's voice.

"I think that injection does something to the drugs," he said, trying to comprehend all he had just discovered from his latest memory, "if the drugs they put in us had some kind of side-effect, that injection would get rid of it...maybe it made the drugs disappear all together. I mean, they couldn't just keep putting different drugs into us all that time. Think of what that would do...especially if it was an experiment. There had to be something that would help the side-effects, some kind of back up plan in case something went wrong. Maybe Juliet knew the drugs were still in her. She took the injection to get rid of them."

"If only we could ask her," Kate replied with a sad smile.

Jack gazed towards the bedroom, silently agreeing with Kate. If only he still knew the whole story. If he only he could remember what happened to them...maybe there was actually more they found out.

"What have you told Sayid?" Kate asked, almost sympathetically.

"Mostly about Juliet and the experiments," Jack said, turning back towards her, "hardly anything about me."

Kate nodded and didn't argue. It was becoming too quiet for his liking; he needed to be thinking of a plan, not standing here in silence.

"Are there any more injections in the hatch?" He inquired.

"I think there are some underneath the sink in the bathroom."

Without saying a word he passed quickly through the hatch until he was in the bathroom. He threw open cabinet doors, revealing a hidden compartment of medicine underneath the sink. Right away he noticed the case that held the injections.

Kate was already in the bedroom talking to Sayid when Jack entered with the case of injections.

"Are you sure this is what needs to happen?" Sayid said as soon as he entered the room.

"Yeah," Jack replied, already kneeling beside the bunk-bed and preparing one of the injections, "I'm sure."

"I'm certain you're aware of the possibility of the consequences of not being right."

"I'm right."

Sayid stepped beside him, still unconvinced.

"Kate said you and Juliet only discussed the possibility of what the injections did," Sayid pointed out, "what if you later found out you were wrong?"

Jack stopped. The injection hovered in mid-air in the palm of his hand. What if Sayid was right?

_"This should help."_

_Jack was lying in the chair in the familiar setting of Dr. Campbell's office. Dr. Campbell was holding some kind of injection, medicine of some sort. When he squinted, forcing his eyes towards sharper vision, his mind weakly recognized the injection as the same one they had once given him each time he left after a day of the experiment. He walked towards Jack, eyes carefully glued to the injection. Jack was too weak to protest as the needle dug into his skin; his eyes closed and he felt his mind go blank as his arm went numb from pain._

_"The side-effects from eariler should go away in the next few hours."_

He snapped back into reality, this time brushing off the memory with a silent 'thanks' for the explanation, hardly taken aback by his second new memory of the past half hour.

"It will work," Jack stated confidently.

Sayid remained silent, lips pursed to hold back the urge to argue. He dried Juliet's arm with a towel from where perspiration streamed from what seemed like no where, and prepared her arm for the injection. They all watched silently as he gave her the medication, and the silence remained until Jack pulled the injection back.

"Let's hope you're right," Sayid announced.

He didn't leave the room but walked towards the door, crossing his arms and staring angrily into the distance. Jack lingered beside the bed with Kate's eyes watching him. Jack knew he couldn't argue with Sayid. He had to be right.

----

An hour passed before he noticed any change in Juliet. Jack sat in the computer chair, gazing at her sleeping form, constantly noting her symptoms until he noticed a change: the sweat that once coated her arms was beginning to dry. Standing up, he approached her, hopeful. He gently placed a hand on her arm, and a gasp of relief left him. Her skin was warmer; there was hardly any sign of perspiration. Feeling like he was being guided by hope Jack knelt down beside the bed, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"You should take a break," Kate suggested. She had just entered the room; she had been staying in the other room with Sawyer for the past hour, occasionally appearing in the bedroom to see if there had been any progress.

"The sweating has stopped," Jack said. It sounded as though his voice was floating through the waves of sounded, sweeping through the emptiness left by the departure of fear. Juliet would get better, he knew she would. "She's no longer cold. There's been progress."

He looked up at Kate, a weary smile on his face. Even though he was full of hope he felt drained by what he had been put through the last couple of hours. Fearing the Others would capture him again, the monster almost finding him, and then Juliet's mysterious illness. All of that was weighing on the fact that he had almost no sleep the previous night.

Kate smiled back at him, though sadly, still obviously concerned.

"Did you even sleep last night?" She asked.

"Yeah."

It wasn't really a lie; he had slept some.

"Go to the beach," Kate said, "Sayid's down here, he can watch over Juliet. Get some sleep."

He gazed back to Juliet. Sleep did sound like a welcoming idea, but he wanted to be there for her.

"I'll rest once she is better."

His tone was final, and he hoped an argument wouldn't follow. Of course Kate didn't grant him his wish.

"Juliet will understand, and if something happens to go wrong someone can be there in five minutes to let you know."

"What if five minutes isn't long enough?"

"Jack..."

"I swear, when she wakes up I'll get some sleep," he looked up at her, offering her an honest smile.

But suddenly he did feel tired. His eyes were threatening to close, pleading for rest. His muscles ached from the walk through the forest and escape from the monster, and his mind was still churning the events of the day around like one certain event would end up being the winning lottery ticket. Too much excitement for someone who only had a few hours of sleep. Nevertheless he turned back to Juliet, determined to stay awake and be there for her. He had a feeling she had become somewhat dependent on him, and perhaps he had become dependent on her, and he knew he couldn't let her down. He didn't want to.

Juliet's hand suddenly twitched, and at first Jack jumped at the movement, watching as her fingers curled and her arm was pulled around her as she found a more comfortable position to lay in. She was waking up...and at the same time trying to find sleep.

"How long have I been out?"

A laugh escaped him before he could restrain it. The laugh let the relief he felt leave him in a way that left him feeling much more awake, and so much aware that everything would be okay.

"A little over an hour," Jack replied, "how do you feel?"

She was curled up in a half-moon shaped, eyes closed as she spoke to the wall.

"Better." He caught her smile.

"You look better too," Jack commented. He noticed her skin was already returning to a normal color, though she would have looked healthier if that normal color wasn't already ghostly pale.

He heard someone's feet shift from where they stood, and he remembered that Kate was in the room. He also remembered his promise.

"I need to stay and observe her progress for a while," he told Kate, "make sure nothing else goes wrong." He smiled and looked to Juliet. "But I'm sure nothing will."

She smiled before falling into a peaceful sleep.

----

It was a strange feeling to watch someone sleep. Especially when you had been labeling them an enemy for the past week and holding them captive. Now as Sayid watch Juliet rest while recovering from her illness, he was hit with reality: he had been wrong about her. She wasn't who he thought she was; she was someone completely different. She was as innocent as Sayid or any of the other castaways and carrying just as much of a burden from the past as they did. The sympathy he felt for her bothered him so much he felt sick with regret.

She stirred then, and even though she was leaving a world that wasn't as cruel as this one she somehow seemed at peace as she woke up. It was when she turned to him, confusion flashing in her eyes, that Sayid realized Juliet had been expecting Jack to be there.

"We sent Jack to the beach to get some rest," he explained.

Juliet nodded and gazed beyond Sayid, as though trying to see through the barely visible hallway and into the rest of the hatch.

"How do you feel?" Sayid required, remembering Jack's insistence that whoever watched over Juliet needed to keep a very close eye on her.

"Okay," Juliet replied.

Suddenly his mouth felt dry and he wasn't sure of what to say. The words of an apology were forming on the tip of his tongue, but even as he was certain of what he might say he remained silent. He wanted to believe that he had done nothing wrong, and if he had it was a mistake. Then there was always that part of him that understood he made a mistake, and that the mistake had caused serious consequences. He owed someone an apology, a second chance. Or at least he could let her know that he understood her now.

"I'm sorry for what you had to go through today," he said, "I'm sorry about your husband."

Juliet managed a sad smile before her eyes filled with tears. She turned away, facing the wall. When she turned back she had only half-successfully recollected her emotions.

"Jack told me about Shannon." Their eyes connected for a single moment as he stared at her, shocked and uncertain of what to think of this. Then Juliet looked away, as though intimidated by their eye contact. "I'm sorry."

Her voice was so soft and broken that Shannon's death seemed to effect Juliet personally. His mouth fell open slightly, reminding him that he should speak, but he closed it again, able to come up with nothing to say. The reminder of Shannon's death, which was really a constant reminder- everyday that he woke up, at night, every rescue mission he went on- caused the guilt living within him to boil into a sickly feeling that made him want to leave the room. He didn't want to talk about this with Juliet; even if he no longer considered her an enemy he wasn't sure how much he trusted her, and how comfortable he was with revealing his past to her. But Jack seemed to have done that already.

Yet as time crawled on he realized there was something that connected him and Juliet: the pain of losing someone they love. He felt like he could understand her now more than ever and possibly vice versa. In that moment of silence a connection was made between them that would remain there for as long as they knew each other and beyond then. It was clear that Juliet was afraid that his reaction to the confession wouldn't be as courteous as she had hoped. Sayid's face softened and he accepted the connection that was growing between them.

"It doesn't get easier, does it?" Juliet asked before he could speak. Her lower lip quivered and she looked away from him. "I don't expect it too, and maybe that's not even a bad thing. I mean, I loved him. I don't think I'll ever be able to let go of the idea that he's gone."

His immediate reaction was to agree with her and admit the truth, that no, it hadn't gotten easier for him.

"You're right about at least one thing," Sayid said, "you will always love your husband. Moving on doesn't mean forgetting that fact or even falling in love again."

She looked at him, confusion blending in with the agony of grief on her face, resulting in the most sorrowful painted pictures that mixed in well with the atmosphere of the castaway's camp.

"Then what does it mean?"

Sayid studied her for a moment, wondering if he should be honest with her and if she would understand that what he said didn't have to be the final solution. Soon her look of confusion turned into desperation, and he knew how much she must be yearning for advice.

"I don't know."

He looked to the floor, hands rubbing against his knees as though trying to brush off the emotions that had settled in the room. But it was good to talk. Even if that might not always be his own personal agenda, if she was willing to talk and admit what she was feeling then he would listen.

"But I suppose time goes on," Sayid continued, "your life doesn't have to stop. He wouldn't want it to."

Juliet looked as though she were considering his words before speaking again.

"When we got married we thought we would be so happy," she said. She let out a tiny ironic laugh. "Look at us. He's dead and I'm...I was held captive on some island for ten months. Our lives our over. He's gone and I'm stuck here, and I'm so confused. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do."

She rolled over, closing her eyes tightly as tears swelled in them. His eyes trailed back to the wedding ring barely visible underneath her hands that wrapped around the ring like a sleeping child clinging to a stuffed animal, and he wondered how it was that his advice seemed to be so easy to follow for others, but when he told himself the same thing it seemed impossible to move on.

----

He wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or concerned about the sunlight slipping through the bottom of his tent. Eyes blinking open wearily, Jack's first thoughts were did he sleep for a few hours or through the night and into the next day? Either way sleep was still heavily pulling back to an unconscious state of mind, and Jack had to force himself to sit up and shake away the desire for rest. He had to find out about how Juliet was doing. A tired sigh allowed stress to momentarily find an escape from his mind, but his thoughts reeled as a single spot in the back of his throat scratched against his neck, begging for water to relieve it of its soreness. He reached for the water bottle that was leaning against his backpack. It was empty. He let out a groan and was forced to finally get up.

Suddenly he felt nothing but annoyance toward anyone that dared to get in his way during his search for water, and when the sun was brave enough to pour its light right on top of him, he quickened his pace with an obvious sense of frustration. He didn't look for other's reactions; he didn't bother seeing how everyone else's day was growing. When he at last reached the large basin of water he uncapped the bottle, aware of his newest desire to get away from the beach as soon as possible. He didn't quite understand what he was going through at the moment. Then again, neither would anyone at the beach.

Jack stopped. His hand lingered over the tub of water, once empty water bottle in hand. It had been empty. He was certain of it. But contrary to his confidence the bottle was now full of water so cold his hand began to tremble in efforts to not freeze. Stepping away from the basin of water Jack stared at the bottle incredulously, refusing to believe what happened. He wasn't even sure what happened, but he decided to test whatever force was playing this mind game. Holding the bottle tightly, he tossed the water into the jungle and headed towards the hatch.

----

For no reason in particular anticipation kept him growing impatient as Jack waited for Juliet to wake up, his fingers tapping random rhythms on his knees and his thoughts rushing through his mind in no particular means of organization. If Juliet would regain consciousness in the next few minutes he may still be able to convince himself to confess about what Dr. Campbell told him. If he had to wait any longer the secret would be buried within him forever. He closed his eyes briefly and tried to concentrate. Maybe he could figure this out on his own. He thought through what Kate told him, about the medicine Juliet took, and the memories he had. Then there was what Dr. Campbell told him, which was actually a warning. Or a trick. The entire conversation could have been a set-up to scare him into going back to the Others' camp.

His eyes flew open at the sound of a soft groan, and he watched as Juliet stirred awake. Now his mind was racing to come to a decision. Juliet turned towards him, smiling wearily when she saw he was there.

"How do you feel?" Jack asked, betraying the frantic state of mind he was in.

Running a hand through her sweaty hair, Juliet stared into the space in front of her in disbelief.

"Shouldn't you be asking me," Juliet began with a hint of confidence that conflicted with the helpless tone of her voice, "why I reacted this way and not Sayid?" Her eyes flickered to the bed she was in; the confidence rolled away from her voice as gracefully as it had come. "Jack, there's something you need to know. Last night...you see...they were experimenting on us, Jack. They used drugs that they put in us, I have know idea what they are. But there was this one that they had, something I think they might have invented. I don't know, but it clears all the other drugs out of your system. It's the all-in-one anti-biotic. Before we escaped I hadn't been able to take that medicine so I knew I still had some of the drugs in me. I took the medicine last night. I guess...maybe it hadn't fully worked yet, maybe whatever they used to knock us unconscious messed with what was already inside me." She looked to him, weary from such a lengthy and sudden explanation. "I'm sorry for not telling you."

He studied her for a moment, meeting her tired and apologetic eyes. Then he smiled.

"It's okay," he replied honestly, "I've done my fair share of lying so we're even."

Juliet returned his smile with a weak grin before turning back towards the wall. As soon as she couldn't see his face slipped into an uncomfortable, guilty, expression. He knew he was lying to her now.

"So I guess it would only be fair if I started being honest too," his eyes diverted towards the ground as she turned back to him. Before staring towards the slick floor of the bedroom, he caught a momentary glance of her confused reaction. He knew she must be preparing herself to be hurt again, to know he lied to her again. "While you and Sayid were unconscious Dr. Campbell stopped by to talk. To warn me. He talked about the drugs, and he mentioned the side-effects. He was trying to get me to come back to their camp. Either it was a trick...or he was telling the truth."

A sigh of frustration left him. Jack ran his hands over his face, feeling the mental effects of the day's events. Now he was waiting for Juliet's response and was dreadfully anticipating the fear that would raise in her face.

"Jack..." she hesitated, and he looked up. The fear on her face wasn't for their safety, or of being terrified at Jack's story, it was of some deeper concern. "He's not lying. I mean...we did walk out on an experiment in progress. I'm not even sure what they were doing to you."

At her words memory suddenly snapped back to him, and he reached into the backpack he had with him. The empty bottle of water should be resting at the bottom of the pack, but when his hands found the water bottle he flinched at the familiar cold sensation.

"Are you okay?" Juliet inquired, eyeing him curiously.

"Yeah," Jack lied. He pulled out the now-full bottle of water he had not touched since leaving the beach. Maybe he was hallucinating. Lack of sleep could be playing tricks on his mind. Jack shook his head, determined to believe that solution. "I'm fine."

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the reviews! I really appreciate them, and I'm glad you guys like the story.

Until next time...

October Sky


	20. The Past Sixteen Years

Life Interrupted

Chapter Twenty

**Chapter Twenty:** The Past Sixteen Years

The ocean sat before her, its crashing waves whipping her hair around her face. Angry gray skies foreshadowed an upcoming rainstorm; the sea dived towards the island for cover. Yet she sat there, still and unafraid. Her daughter. Danielle watched her and wondered how her daughter didn't notice her own mother standing only a dozen feet behind her, or how her own daughter chose to ignore her and go out of her way to avoid talking to her. She took a step forward, her feet shuffling through the soft sand. Clouds hid the shadows that normally stretched out before her, and she was able to approach her daughter without anyone but herself aware of this.

"What were you doing there?" She inquired. Danielle knew exactly what she would say- she had an entire list of questions ready in her head, starting with the past sixteen years and ending with demands to know why her own daughter was hiding from her. "What did you have to do with them?"

Alex lifted her head slightly from where it had been resting on her hand, only acknowledging her mother's presence for a moment before once again becoming absent-minded. She gazed out to the ocean, but Danielle remained quiet, waiting to see if this was just Alex feeling uncomfortable talking about the subject. Her daughter never answered.

"How did they treat you?"

Her tone wasn't of curiosity or sympathy, but of seriousness and the strict questioning tone she recognized from her own mother. It horrified her to know that she wasn't asking about why her daughter had skipped class or snuck out of the house, she was wanting to know how her life had been for the sixteen years after she had been taken from her.

"What are they doing here?" Danielle asked, hoping that Alex may answer a less-personal question. No answer.

She didn't ask another question. She was quickly approaching the more personal questions, a list of questions she had wanted the answers to for the past sixteen years. When she was forced to considered theories over the questions she would find herself crying, and after sixteen years of enduring the island's cruel lifestyle, anger would begin to drive her towards a breaking point.

Just then the sky ripped open and in moments the rain was tinted a dark shade of brown. She watched as her daughter stood, carelessly preparing to leave and seeming to not notice the damage the rain was doing to her appearance.

"Where are you going?"

This time concern escaped through her voice, deeper and more desperate than before. Alex turned around, and Danielle looked into her daughter's eyes for one of the first times in her life. Her eyes were a dark brown, dark enough to hide her emotions, until times like these when her eyes, filled with tears- she was certain not rain- betrayed her determination to distance herself from her mother.

"It's raining," her daughter stated. Bitterness and a clear disliking of her interrogations slurred against her words, and for a moment Alex's eyes turned cold, as though insulted that her mother would ask these questions. Danielle stared back, confused, and silent as the tears settled back in her daughter's eyes. Alex turned and began walking down the beach.

Over the years Danielle learned to become immune to weather. Rain meant nothing, only that the sound of dripping water would play as background music to her thoughts. But now, as she watched her daughter walk away from her, unwilling, or maybe too traumatized, to answer her questions, she could feel the cold drops of rain hitting her arm. She shivered and suddenly wished to be inside somewhere, safe in a shelter from the rain and with her daughter, who would be willing to talk to her.

As she stormed into the Swan, her loud footsteps echoing and shoes screeching as puddles of rain formed below her, Danielle found herself openly showing more emotion than she had in months. She was infuriated not at her daughter, but at the people she never ceased to blame for what her family had been through for the past sixteen years. Not even the violent rainstorm could drain the anger that cluttered inside her, scurrying in its own fear to the corners as the angered emotion inside her inflated. Instead of the rain drowning out her emotions, her emotions would burst open. All the weather did was fuel the energy being devoted towards her anger.

She stopped abruptly when she reached the living area. Sayid, Sawyer, Kate, and Jack were gathered around the couch, Sawyer still the injured patient staying in the hatch until his bullet wound healed. They stared at her when she entered the room and she stared at them. She wasn't surprised by finding them there, she had expected them to be there; it was as though she was paying her respects to their shock and confusion of her sudden presence. Rarely did she communicate with them; mostly when she signed up for rescue missions, secretly in hopes of saving the daughter who now was too frightened to make up for sixteen years of stolen time.

"Why have we not done anything about them?" Danielle demanded, expecting them to have an answer.

Their eyes remained staring at her in confusion, all looking equally as unable to understand.

"Excuse me?" Jack asked.

Her eyes flickered towards them; she admittedly didn't recognize his voice. She had only heard him talk so few times and that had been long ago. Yet after spending so much time alone on the island her memory of him quickly returned, and Danielle's hope raised. Jack was exactly the person she should be talking to. Her eyes ran over the scars on his arms and the fading ones on his face, appearing to be lost in admiration of what he had been through. And at the same time, grateful that she found someone who would understand her.

"We have four of them with us," Danielle stated.

"I'm not one of them ," Jack quickly corrected, obviously catching on to what she meant, "and neither is Juliet."

"But you've been to their camp."

"I didn't know where I was!" Jack said, perhaps with a little too much force.

Before she entered their conversation may have had nothing to do with the Others, and she would now be drawing Jack's attention back towards the past nine months of his life. But she knew what he was really thinking about and that just the thought of being held prisoner for nine months would haunt him even though- or maybe especially because- he might not remember that time.

"We are in a position to be able to defend ourselves," Danielle went on.

"Are you talking about revenge?"

Sayid's eyes met her eyes, and with that look he would know that he was correct.

"Danielle-"

"They've been holding my daughter prisoner for sixteen years," Danielle said.

"But we don't know that much about your daughter's kidnapping," Kate began, sounding sympathetic- but at the same time unwilling to accept Danielle's insistence that they should be getting revenge.

Danielle just stared at her, and Kate didn't speak again. Through her wide, accusing eyes, Danielle asked her how she could ever suggest that the Others were innocent in this, in any way.

"Either way we're not going back there," Jack said, interrupting the tension in the room.

Her eyes shifted to Jack, now full of curiosity. How could he not want revenge? Easily, she thought. She didn't have to look deep to find fear in his eyes. With Jack's eyes burned into hers, obviously refusing help, and the other's silent, even sympathetic, looks, she knew she would not find help here. Danielle turned, preparing to enter the rainstorm again.

She heard them talking even as she reached the door; they weren't as secretive as they thought. They were sending Sayid to talk to her, so she was prepared when she heard his footsteps behind her a few moments later. She didn't speak, she didn't protest him being there.

"Surely you know we've had little luck against them?"

She wasn't going to answer any of his questions. Maybe they should see what it felt like to be ignored.

"I'll talk to her."

She stopped and turned around; she wasn't certain why. She didn't necessarily want to put trust in this man and let him accomplish what she couldn't: to get the truth out of her daughter. But she wanted the truth. Danielle remained silent, waiting for Sayid to explain.

"I can talk to her," Sayid offered.

She stared at him and realized she understood the first time. She also realized that she wasn't jumping to argue, that she was considering his offer.

"Okay," she replied quietly.

No one responded as she turned and left the room.

----

Sayid's eyes scanned the beach, looking for the daughter of the woman who had been living on this island for sixteen years. Who tortured him, thinking it was he who took her child. Alex was filling up a bottle with water, gazing down to the pool in front of her looking rather lonely, and he realized this was a first for Alex, to be parted with the man she had come with, from their camp. Michael Pickett. He spent a moment just observing her, taking note of her appearance, behavior. Wondering what life had been like for her on this island. She had been raised here, without knowing about her true identity. She had been raised here without modern technology, without education. He wondered how broad her vocabulary was. How much she knew about the world- not the island, but the world. Or did she even know the rest of the world existed?

He took a deep breath; this would be more difficult than he thought. But he was one to try his best to keep promises, and he would do as he said he would.

He approached her casually, taking out a half-empty bottle of water and filling it.

"The water's more fresh at the caves."

Stealing a glance towards Alex, he caught her eye. She smiled, and he got the feeling she knew what he was up to.

"But you're getting your water from the beach," Alex pointed out.

Her accent was soft, obviously influenced by her mother's own accent; perhaps it would be thicker were she to be yelling at him. Maybe he would find out.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you." He decided it would be best to come right out with it, after all she clearly understood what was going on. Maybe she even knew exactly who she was. "Maybe you would like to go for a walk?"

"Sorry," Alex replied, "but I don't go for walks with strange men whose names I don't know."

Sayid smiled.

"My name's Sayid."

He was relieved that she didn't seem to know who he was...unless she was lying.

Alex looked around the beach as though waiting for someone to tell her not to go. Then her eyes traveled back to him; the smile she pulled off this time didn't look nearly as sincere.

"My name's Alex," she said. She began leading him away from the water, and he allowed her to chose the path they took, though he kept a close eye on where they were going. They walked on in silence, Sayid suddenly at loss for words. What should he say to her? He couldn't just start off asking her who the Others were or her part in all of it. He didn't want to scare her away, yet the idea of simply talking to a teenaged girl he didn't know terrified him.

Alex took a sip of her water and grimaced.

"Maybe the water is better at the caves," she said, swallowing the sour taste in her mouth.

"I'll take you there," Sayid offered, casually changing paths and heading for the jungle, "just out of curiosity, what do you know about the plumbing on the island? Showers and a fully supplied kitchen, it all seems out of place on a supposedly deserted island."

"That's just the beginning," Alex sounded as though she was starting a long, excited, string of the different aspects of the island; but then she trailed off, as though remembering she shouldn't be talking about that. "This place is pretty amazing."

"If you consider kidnapping amazing," Sayid retorted.

Mentally he winced at his statement; his attention wasn't to prove how much the Others had hurt them. Sure enough Alex was quick to defend.

"I have nothing to do with that," she replied, sounding hurt, "why do you think I left?"

"Did you leave?" He stopped, turning to face her. "Or did they throw you out?"

Face growing dark and cold, Alex's voice reflected her sudden change in appearance.

"They don't throw people out," she remarked, "we're a family."

He responded with silence, shocked by the second part of her statement. Alex looked away, face softening.

"Your family is a woman who has been looking for you on this island for sixteen years, and maybe other relatives back where your from. Your mother's been stranded on this island for sixteen years and you're all she has. You're her family."

Alex stared at him, eyes suddenly glowing with anger.

"I don't even know her," Alex replied quietly, obviously trying not to explode with frustration, "I'm sorry if this is hard for me."

She turned to continued walking, but they were already the caves. She wasn't walking forward. Sayid turned to her, confused, but when he saw her wide, horrified eyes, he followed her gaze to the problem. Jack was there, in the caves. He was talking with Charlie and Claire, smiling. He looked back to Alex, but he found nothing but an empty space where she was before.

Too confused to understand to run after her, try and talk to her, Sayid turned back towards the caves, meeting Jack's eyes. Before Sayid could run away himself Jack was already approaching him, soon to find out of his failure, that this wouldn't be as easy as originally thought.

"What was that all about?" Jack inquired.

"She seems to be uncomfortable with talking about herself," Sayid explained, "which isn't surprising. Think of all she's been through. She's possibly facing the realization that her entire life has been a lie."

Jack seemed to be contemplating a decision as he stared at him. He could only imagine: when he offered to talk to Danielle he was surprised that Jack hadn't spoken up instead.

"I'll talk to her."

And he still wasn't surprised; but he wasn't ready to agree.

"We should give her time," Sayid suggested.

Shaking his head, Jack looked impatient, as though already gathering his list of questions for the teenager in his head.

"I want to talk to her," and with that declarative statement, Sayid knew that Jack's intentions wouldn't be for Danielle's benefit. "I want answers."

"We all want answers," Sayid replied, "but we should wait."

They stared at each other, Jack glaring, Sayid understanding. He knew each time a suggestions as such was made, that the rest of the survivors too had suffered for the past nine months, and he could see the anger rushing through him, jumping to his defense. This time, however, Jack didn't argue. He turned around and walked back toward Kate. Sayid stared after him, finding himself feeling helpless. They had to wait, that seemed to be the solution to everything. But what were they supposed to do as they waited for time to heal?

----

So carefully and successfully was he able to avoid the conversation with Sayid that a hint of a smile had managed to sneak onto his face. He and Kate walked back to the hatch, maintaining their previous ignorance of reality and all that had gone wrong over the past few days, all the while he attempting to put the idea of being able to ask Alex questions about the Others out of his mind. Then, just as his hand fell on the door to the hatch, the question came.

"What were you talking to Sayid about?" She asked, her voice still sounding lighthearted, though curious.

He hesitated, his reluctance revealing his wish to not bring up the conversation. But he didn't want to lie to her; she already obviously knew something was wrong.

"About Alex," Jack admitted, turning towards her, "she doesn't want to talk about her life with the Others. I offered to talk to her."

"Jack..."

Her eyes seemed to make disapproval and concern become one, as though he had suggested he should start smoking. How was it that everyone here seemed to be immediately on the same page, always so quickly knowing the right answers, what should happen?

"She has all the answers I need, Kate," he said, "she can tell me everything that happened, everything they did to me."

"Is there any evidence that they even did something to you?" Kate inquired. "I know what you remember, but you seem fine. Normal, considering."

"Fine?" He laughed, acknowledging his disbelief that she would even suggest this.

Kate's glare, that same perfect blend of disapproval and concern, shook away any trace that she had been hurt by his laugh. Hands on her hips, she remained silent, waiting for him to explain, not bothering with wasting their time with yelling. His eyes trailed away, and he let out another laugh, thinking this made up for his silence. He could still feel his eyes on her, and he knew he had to talk.

"Come on," he said, "you heard what I told you...they were doing experiments, Kate. Something happened to me and I want to know what."

"Have you considered that you were just part of the experiment?" She asked. She seemed to possess the same disbelief as he, for the opposite reason. "That maybe they were using you as a part of an experiment?"

Jack stared at her, confused.

"What's the difference?"

Kate looked away, her defenses faltering. She hadn't thought through her argument.

"Maybe they didn't put anything directly into you," she explained with difficulty, "even if they did...maybe it wasn't to see how it effected you but just...Jack, you can't jump to conclusions."

He shook his head and his eyes fell on the scars on his arms, the marks from dozens of needles that suggested otherwise, that gave plenty of evidence that he could be right. And he realized he was beginning to feel sick. He grimaced a little as his stomach tightened and his head suddenly felt light.

"Do you want to get something to eat?" He asked.

A smile spread across Kate's face, and he could tell she was looking for a break in the tension between them.

"Sure," she said.

He opened the hatch door and stepped in. Silence greeted them, a calming kind of silence that made him grateful for his choice to return to the hatch. He didn't mind being at the caves or the beach to see the others, but lately he had been finding himself embracing the silence in an almost greedy way, taking in the moments when he could remain there, with no one to talk to him or in need of his help. But he didn't mind sparing a few of those moments, if not for the sake of not losing himself in isolation. Despite enjoying the silence he wasn't sure if isolation was helping him get anywhere.

Before entering the kitchen the entrance hall led them to the living area, where Sawyer lay sleeping on the couch. Kate smiled.

"Do you want to check on Juliet?" She asked him. "I can go ahead and get us something to eat."

He nodded.

"Yeah."

Though the bedroom was as silent as the rest of the hatch when Jack stepped into the room he found Juliet's eyes open, staring at the wall beside her bed, as though looking through it, beyond it. He approached her silently, carefully, thinking of what he should say. Was this how Kate felt the first time she spoke to him after finding out about his memory loss? Only with Juliet it had been taken a step further: she barely remembered who she was. Her only memory was of her dead husband.

"Hey," Jack said softly. She didn't reply, she didn't turn to him. "How do you feel?"

He stayed back a little, waiting for her answer before approaching her further. She didn't look as though she heard him, trapped in a trance of the past, of memories she could not see. But then she did speak, quietly, softly as to hide the pain she felt emotionally.

"Fine," she whispered. Her eyes blinked; tears had formed in them at the simple task of speaking. Was that from physical pain, he wondered, or from emotional torment?

Momentarily sitting his worries for her emotional well-being aside, Jack studied her, comparing her state now to earlier that day. Her face was pale, but unlike before. She was no longer sweating, she didn't look panicked. She even looked...peaceful. In an odd way. Calm. Numb. Still, unmoving, her eyes just as stiff. He lay a hand on her forehead; her skin was warm to the touch, but not horrifyingly so.

"You seem like you're feeling better," he commented, "you should probably be ready to go back to the beach tomorrow."

Her response was a gentle closing of her eyes, as though wincing at the thought of being back at the beach, dreading the idea of being around other people. His hand fell on her shoulder, and he kneeled beside the bed.

"If you want to talk..."

She turned to him, and that wasn't the only surprise: for the first time emotions unfolded in the skin of her face. He remembered how light she felt when he picked her up and mentally shuddered as he took in her expression of pain; and there was nothing but emotion on her face, it was as though skin and bone were one, skin barely clinging to the bones of her face as she suddenly looked ill again.

"I can't remember who I am," she said quietly, "I don't remember anything. All I know is that he's dead. I know you and him. That's all."

They gazed at each other, and Jack suddenly was aware that he wasn't the one with all the problems. His eyes traveled to the floor in guilt: all those times he had gone on about his memory and here was Juliet...remembering nothing but Jack himself. Then her first new memory was of her dead husband.

Juliet's eyes closed again as she turned away from him; a small sigh escaped her lips.

"I think I'm going to go to sleep," she said, "and maybe I'll wake up...and this will all be a dream."

How many times had he thought the same thing? But he let her sleep, and a few moments later she was silent after a small laugh followed her hopeful words.

He slipped back into the living area and quietly passed Sawyer's sleeping form as he headed towards the kitchen. A smile formed on his face, and he found himself glad to have something to look forward to. A conversation that wouldn't include a reminder of what they were all going through. Kate smiled as well as she poured something into two bowls.

"Dharma Vegetable Soup," she explained, "I know, I'm such a talented chef."

He tried to think of a witty remark and failed; his thoughts were still on Juliet and he was having trouble putting them out of mind for the moment. So he just smiled.

"It smells good," he said.

Stepping over towards the counter, he peered into one of the bowls of soup.

"But what's that funny shaped black thing?" He teased.

Kate rolled her eyes and picked up one of the bowls of soup.

"You could be grateful, you know."

He followed her to the kitchen table and set down, smile still lingering on his face as to not lose the comic relief of the moment. He caught her eye, a smile still beaming on her face, but he could also catch the sympathy. He always could. He looked down at the soup and took a bite of food. The warm liquid sank into the disappearing cuts on his lips, and he winced slightly, but once he swallowed he felt the comforting feeling of the warm liquid against his throat, soothing and refreshing. He took a second spoonful of soup before saying:

"This is really good," he studied the vegetables swimming in the liquid on his spoon, "who would have guessed these guys were actually good cooks?"

Kate smiled, laughed, and took a bite of food. Then silence caught them, tide pulling them out to sea. His thoughts danced around topics, straying from the most personal ones, of questions and things he could say to her but never would, not at this time; staying closer to safer topics. Ironically the same subjects he wished to avoid at the moment.

"Sawyer seems to be getting better," he said, and watched as Kate's thoughts drifted to the man she loved, "he might even be ready to go back to the beach in a couple of days. You should keep a closer eye on him though. One more bullet wound in that arm and we might have to cut his arm off."

Kate laughed, shaking her head.

"He does have really bad karma," she said, "I don't think I want to see him in the real world, around cars."

They shared a laugh though Jack secretly would have rather talked about something else. It was selfish, even an impossible thing to ask at the moment, but he just felt the need to be lost in those pointless conversations, to be talking about something that didn't need a moment of preparation time for him to feel ready to admit. But he was at a complete loss for words.

"How is she?" Kate asked. "Juliet?"

Jack sighed and ran a free hand over his face and then his head. She gazed at him sympathetically, waiting for his answer.

"She's doing better but..." he trailed off, unsure of how much Juliet wanted others to know, "she's doing better."

Kate studied him and he waited nervously for the moment to pass as she tried to detect his lie; but she never did. She took another bite of soup and he wondered when their friendship had come to this, depending on food to distract them from awkward pauses of silence, when they could find nothing to say. And he knew it was because of the conversation they had the night before and his confession. What was it like for her to talk to him now, to face him after all he told her? No wonder she was so quiet, pretending to be innocent in her own loss for words as she turned to her food.

"I thought there was a bag of cookies left," Kate said, her voice sounding small instead of powerful over the silence of the hatch, "but I think Desmond ate the last of it last night. I'll yell at him for it."

He laughed, the hollow laughter fading as he thought. Maybe...

"I can double check," Jack said, standing up.

His heart raced, pounding loudly and quickly, and determination stirred a feeling within him, as though he might be sick. At the same time a hopeful excitement kept him walking forward, curious and at the same time as all of this...confident.

A short search through the shelves of food in the pantry let him to where the sweets were kept: cartons of chocolate and vanilla pudding, candy bars. And a bag of chocolate chip cookies. He grinned.

Kate stared at him in disbelief as he entered the room carrying the back of cookies.

"I swear I checked the room twice," Kate said, accepting the bag of cookies Jack handed her, "where'd you find them?"

Jack shrugged.

"With everything else," he replied casually.

But inside his heart was pounding even faster, he fought from keeping from grinning even wider. And at the same time he felt terrified, like he possessed some kind of power. It was all he could do to keep from jumping to permanate conclusions, to not consider that maybe Kate just hadn't checked the room carefully enough. Yet he knew; all but that small, unwilling, percentage of him knew what happened. It was the same thing that happened with the bottle of water: all he had to do was think, and whatever he wanted would come true.

"Some week, huh?" Kate said, shaking him away from his thoughts. "And the week's not really over."

She let out a sigh, running a hand through her hair.

"I just wish for once we could have a break from all this," she said.

"I know what you mean," Jack said, "it just gets...too much."

Kate nodded as they trailed off into silence, reminiscing over the past few days. All that happened, all they learned.

_"Tell me about them," Juliet said. She gazed at him through tired eyes; he stared at the floor in similar exhaustion. Another week had past as a captive to the Others, and all he knew was that his energy was slowly being taken from him, mentally and physically. He also knew he needed to fight to keep that energy, to be able to go back to his camp. "The people at your camp. You haven't told me much."_

_Jack considered his words as he thought back, and immediately one face came to mind._

_"Kate," he said at once._

_"The one you asked me about?" Juliet said. "The one who was taken captive with you?"_

_He nodded and closed his eyes, just in case any tears made find there way to the surface._

_"We were friends from the beginning," he said, "I really care about her...I always wanted to protect her."_

_His eyes opened as he laughed at himself. Hand thrown over his knees that were drawn to his chest, Jack looked away. Juliet sat beside him, studying him with interest._

_"But you like her?" She said. He didn't answer. One of the worst parts of being held captive was how life was left behind, the status of his and Kate's relationship before they were taken captive. They weren't exactly enemies but things were uncertain between them. He wasn't sure where they stood, where the future could have gone. "You do, don't you?"_

_Jack couldn't help but to smile and Juliet laughed. He never answered her, but he knew...and he regretted what had happened between them._

He met Kate's eyes as he looked up from his memory and found her staring back at him. His breath shortened a little; he had no words to explain himself. But still he spoke, and he was as surprised as Kate at each word that came from his mouth.

"I'm sorry," he stated, his voice uneven, his eyes staring dangerously deeply into hers.

"Sorry for what?" Kate said. Their eye contact didn't break.

"I wish things could have turned out differently."

And now he was certain of what she was looking at, what she saw when she looked into his eyes. And he let her see: how sincere he was about what he said, how long he had wanted to say it. What exactly he meant. Then Kate looked down, and the reaction stung him, piercing him so violently that he couldn't look away as well but could only continue to stare at her, wondering why she had to act like this. Why she always ran away...he wanted to know how she really felt.

"Jack?"

He still didn't look away even at the sound of Locke's voice, but Kate did, and he saw her eyes travel behind him.

"Hey John," Kate said. Her voice suddenly sounded tired. He hated Locke then and wondered what Kate would have said had she not been offered a distraction.

"I was wondering if I could talk to Jack," Locke explained.

Jack's eyes fell to the table; he sighed. Locke sounded serious, something probably happened while they were in the hatch.

"What's going on?" Jack said, turning around to face Locke. He didn't bother to hide his impatience.

"I was wondering if we could talk privately."

They stared at each other, and Jack knew that Locke was aware that he was interrupting a conversation he would rather not leave. Maybe this wasn't even serious; he couldn't help but to think this was Locke's plan to make his life even more miserable. How long would it be before he got another chance to talk to Kate? Before he would have the courage to say something as honest as he just did?

"Go ahead," Kate said, "I'll clean up."

She stood and began gathering the dishes from the table. She looked as tired as she sounded, like all her energy had left her within the last few moments. Jack hesitated, not wanting to give in. But Kate was already cleaning up, leaving him to talk to Locke.

He followed Locke to just outside the hatch. The night was dark; he glanced around and knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate on their conversation. The monster was out here, the Others...he shouldn't be out here.

"A couple of nights ago I was watching over Sawyer while Kate was asleep," Locke began, "and I noticed something was off about the room."

A few nights ago...close to the time of Zander's death. Jack fought to keep a straight face while panicking, knowing this was the end. Somehow Locke knew.

"There was blood on the floor," Locke said, "and then I found a bullet."

Eyes still, Jack hid the panic that was rising within him, the memory haunting him. Who else had Locke told this to? And he was obviously so certain that Jack was the culprit, gazing at him through curious eyes, like a parent waiting for a child to admit to an obvious crime.

"Sorry," Jack said, his lie quiet. He cleared his throat. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Locke studied him, and Jack realized that this was one of he longest conversations he'd had with Locke in the past nine months. Maybe Locke had some understanding about Jack, maybe he accepted him for being the kind of person he was- death seemed to do that to some people- but he still remembered everything. Boone dying. The hatch. All of Locke's lies. And so, when Locke dared to make his next statement, Jack was ready to remind them that those things weren't just something of the past.

"You're lying."

He stared at Locke, his mouth falling open slightly, stunned.

"You're talking to me about lies?" Jack demanded. He wouldn't let Locke walk away thinking he was leaving him with guilt.

"We've all had our fair share of lies," Locke said, unharmed by the accusation, "remember the gun case?"

"Remember the hatch?" Jack said. His voice was rising; he glanced around and made an effort to lower his voice. "Remember Boone?"

Shaking his head, Locke looked away, bringing a hand to head and resting it there as he thought. Jack waited, knowing that no insult Locke threw back at him could justify the past.

"If there's one thing you should understand is that sometimes things happen on this island that wouldn't normally happen in our lives," Locke said, turning back to Jack, "we have to make decisions that we normally wouldn't make, and once we get off this island we'll all look back and understand what we did. We'll be able to come to terms with the past."

"Decisions?" Jack retorted. "I never made a decision to kill someone!"

His shouts left an echo in the jungle that stung even moments after he spoke. Eyes wide in surprise of his reaction to Locke's monologue, Jack waited for a reply. That wasn't completely true. There were times when he did have to make decisions he didn't like...he remembered killing the Marshall when Sawyer failed to. Watching as Boone died. And all the people he wasn't able to save...

"Neither have I." Locke must have known what was going through Jack's mind, and as he turned away to leave he thought he caught a hint of sympathy from Locke. Pity. "Goodnight, Jack."

His eyes followed Locke as he walked through the jungle, footsteps disappearing with every crack of a leaf until finally they were too distant to be heard. Jack suddenly felt as though he were alone, truly alone; he shivered. He was alone with his lies, the truth he could barely admit to himself. And now he must go back inside, act like nothing happened and wonder how Locke would prove what they both knew was true. Jack hadn't even accomplished what he hoped by defending himself. As he stood there, alone in the dark, he found himself recalling moments that proved Locke right, reminding himself of the lies he kept. All he was guilty of and still felt guilty about, and all he seemed to ever do was walk away, nothing ever changing. Living one lie after the other.

----

His feet shuffled through the sand quietly, mindful of those sleeping as he walked through the quiet camp. The man he was looking for was by one of the surviving fires, watching the flames die quietly. As he drew closer the soft footsteps could be heard and Sayid looked up. He stood, not talking until he was facing Locke, and dropping his voice as he did.

"Did you talk to him?" Sayid asked.

Locke nodded.

"And?" Sayid said, searching Locke's eyes for a hint of the answer while Locke allowed time to linger, drawing suspense.

He did try and stay true to his own theory, that he should remember that one day they would be off the island and understand what happened to them. He understood that they all had to make these decisions, and even if his suspicions were correct he would still ask for an explanation.

"He's lying," Locke confirmed.

Sayid studied him for a moment, and Locke knew he wanted to believe this wasn't the final answer.

"What did you tell him?" Sayid inquired.

"I told him I saw the blood and found the bullet."

"And he didn't ask how you knew exactly where to find the bullet?"

Locke shrugged. He looked around the camp, eyes falling on the tent Jack slept in. He wondered if he was sleeping or still awake, wondered how many nights he had spent lying awake, thinking of the lies he kept secret.

"I just want to know why he's lying," Sayid said. He followed Locke's eyes to Jack's tent. "Why he would keep this from us. He has to start telling the truth."

"It makes you wonder," Locke said, "what else he's hiding. What all he knows."

Sayid looked back to Locke.

"And Juliet," he added.

A smile appeared on Locke's face then, ironic, amused. He stuffed his hands in his pockets; the night was growing cool.

"I guess we'll never know," he glanced around the camp once more, this time protectively. When he was satisfied the camp was safe he added: "Goodnight."

Sayid nodded, watching him leave, eyes growing darker the farther away Locke disappeared. He hadn't told Locke what he knew about Jack's memories, that they were coming back. But even so there was still so much he didn't know, and he was becoming certain he wasn't being told the complete truth.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	21. Different

Life Interrupted

Chapter Twenty-One

**Chapter Twenty-One:** Different

_Her eyes bore into his, bleeding tears of desperation. Arms thrown around the chair, wrist bound tightly, hands red, sweating. She could have spoken if she wanted, but she silently pleaded for his help; perhaps she was sympathetic. But all he could do was sit, his own wrist were locked in handcuffs attached to the sides of the chair he sat in. The room was empty, for all he knew the door wasn't locked. The computer station was vacant, the piano in the corner abandoned, wincing at the sounds of Juliet's frantic attempts to escape. He was supposed to help her. Somehow._

He had to help her.

He had to help her.

_His eyes locked into hers, falling into a trance without Jack himself realizing. Not until it was all over. He concentrated, somehow knowing what he had to do. _

He had to help her.

_Suddenly one of Juliet's hands fell to her side. She gasped, shocked, shaken, staring at him. Then both their eyes traveled to her side as her hands fell, limp and swollen. His fist clenched, the bones so tense it felt as though his hand might be broken. And he realized: the handcuffs had fallen._

_The door to the building open. Zander, Dr. Campbell, and Alex walked in. Alex looked away, looked to the floor, did anything she could to avoid his eyes._

_"Nice job, Jack," Zander announced, as he headed towards the computer station. Alex walked towards Jack, eyes still glued to the ground. "About five minutes faster than I thought you would take."_

_When Alex helped him stand she was shaking more then he would; and Juliet, in the hands of Dr. Campbell as he helped her stand, shook more violently then Alex. Her frantic, stunned, breaths could be heard from across the room. _

He jerked himself away from the dream, as though his conscious could take no more of it. The sound of something pounding to the ground around him echoed in his mind, in the mist of the memory that haunted him. It was raining. A distant sunrise tried to break through the thin walls of his tent, but darkness surrounded him. The silence of early morning welcomed him back to reality. But that was what wasn't fair about his dreams: they weren't just dreams. They were reality. Dreaming had become relieving nightmares of memory, experiences so unbelievably terrifying, so far from the world of normalcy he had lived all his life, that he was certain they were nightmares. But they were memories.

His skin trembled as he stepped out into the cool rain. Shades of gray and purple danced across the sky before him, and all around him were closed tents, protecting sleeping castaways from the storm. His eyes scanning the beach, expecting to find the shore empty, to convince himself that he should go back inside now. Everything was fine. But he couldn't shake away the memories, he wasn't even sure what he saw. The one person who could give him answers sat on the shore nearby, letting the rain fall around her.

"I hope you're sleepwalking," Jack said, approaching her, "if not we're going to have a serious talk about why you shouldn't be standing outside in freezing rain."

Juliet smile, pushing away the rain sliding down her face.

"And who's going to talk to you?" She replied, grinning as he sat down next to her. The sand below shifted, melting and muddy. Suddenly he yearned to be inside, where there was at least some warmth, and dry.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked.

Juliet shrugged. She wore sweatpants and a tank-top; her shoulders were shivering and blue.

"Really, you should go back inside," he said, "get some sleep."

She looked at him, smile gone.

"Only if you tell me why you're out here."

His eyes drifted to avoid her gaze, like Alex in his memory. The image of Juliet trapped, tied up and afraid, plagued his mind. And all for an experiment. All because of him.

"I remembered something," he began quietly, eyes staring into the sand in front of him, tinted by the rain that still fell around them until he was as drenched as Juliet. His shoulders shook, cold, his lips trembled in the freezing rain as he struggled with what he needed to say. "They had you tied up, across from me. I was tied up too. And then...we weren't. I needed to help you, to get us out of there. The binds just fell. Then...then they came in and told me that took less time then they expected."

He was afraid to look at her, afraid to see just how real the memory was.

"Did you ever consider," Juliet began, quietly, as though taking care of the struggle he was having in dealing with these memories, "that sometimes dreams are just dreams? Maybe not all of what you remember is true."

He wanted to be hopeful, to believe her, but he didn't. He felt sick. He was disgusted, disturbed, by what he had seen and even more so at the fact that Juliet felt the need to lie about it.

"It's not true."

Eyes drifting towards her, Jack scarcely allowed himself to have hope, still reluctant to believe even when he saw the sympathetic smile softly spreading across her face.

"That never happened, I swear," Juliet continued. Her eyes searched his, as though looking for what would make him believe her. "I promise you Jack, nothing like that ever happened. And just...don't blame yourself for what we went through. It wasn't your fault."

Even hearing this from someone who was there with him didn't make him want to believe her. But he didn't say this. He needed to figure out what was going on. Wait and see if Juliet was lying...maybe similar memories would come, and not in dreams. He hoped they wouldn't.

Juliet's eyes, focused on the scenery behind him, danced around as she made the shift to change the subject, to move forward.

"While we're up, do you want to get something to eat?"

----

They ate in silence, both unsure of what to say, two friends afraid to communicate after one just admitted their deepest, darkest secret. Leaning against the makeshift tables on the beach, they simply stared at their food, Jack watching his spoon push the dry cereal around in his bowl. His clothes rest on his body in a stiff heap, rain having engulfed the fabric so much the water was stuck, clinging to him in attempts to complete its fall from the heavens to the earth. His eyes fell forward; he shook himself, determined to stay awake. He knew too many days of suffering from lack of sleep couldn't be made up in a dozen hours, but he felt the need to stay awake, because doing so could earn him more answers. He could talk to Juliet- if he could ever find the words to say- or she could convince herself to talk to him. Or he could remember something. Maybe something that could confirm that his dream was actually just a dream. All that came to him was cloudy dust of conscience begging him to return to sleep.

"You two are up early."

He looked up at Kate's voice and was surprised by how unaffected he was by her sudden presence: not happy to see her, not amused by the bright smile she wore despite the weather and his and Juliet's despondent moods.

"What, has a storm cloud been following you around all day?" Kate teased.

When Jack didn't answer, Juliet replied:

"That would have been funnier if it were sunny," she offered Kate a smile and received a grin in returned.

Then Kate looked to him, obviously able to see his detached appearance.

"What's going on?" She asked him, amusement gone from her voice.

"Nothing."

Jack looked back down at the dry cereal. It couldn't have been past six thirty in the morning; he couldn't help but to wonder why Kate was at the beach as well.

"I just told him that sometimes his dreams are just dreams," he looked up, surprised, even betrayed, at Juliet's response. Juliet's eyes met his, telling him this was the right thing to do. He didn't agree. "I told him that everything he's seeing might not be true."

"What have you been seeing?" Kate inquired, now more concerned then ever, eyes staring at him in desperation for the truth. "What have you been dreaming?"

Jack looked away from Juliet, meeting Kate's eyes.

"Nothing."

She must have been shocked by his lack of response, the lack of comic relief and the complete seriousness, the darkness of his emotions. Maybe this was how he would be. Things may never be the same between them; maybe they would be more distant than before. What he hated was knowing this was happening and not having the energy to change. He couldn't bring himself to change what he was feeling, not when his most recent memory was still so clear in his minds. He glanced back to Juliet, curious as to what she was thinking, what she was hiding. All he received was a flash of memory, of the desperate, silent, pleads for his help. The tears and sweet running down her face. Jack looked back down to the dry cereal and forced himself to take a bite of food, if not to just convince Kate he was alright. He felt like he might throw up.

"Good morning."

Jack sighed as Sayid stepped into the conversation; another person to interrogate him.

"What's wrong?" The good mood that Sayid was apparently in was gone. He realized he was slowly bringing darkness to all the light that managed to creep into the camp, person by person ruining the day before when it had barely begun. His day was already ruined; now all he had to think of was how he would deal with this, what he was supposed to do wrong.

Kate shrugged.

"He hates the rain," she replied, smiling as she glanced towards Jack.

Sayid returned the smile, amused, and continued his conversation with Kate despite the presence of Jack and Juliet.

"What are you doing down here so early?" He asked as he reached for one of the boxes of Dharma food. "We've rarely been seeing you down here."

"I actually came to talk to Jack." The mention of his name caught his attention; he looked up to her. "Sawyer wants to know when he can come back to the beach. He said you mentioned maybe today."

He couldn't help but to be a little amused. Above them, a tiny ray of sunlight broke against the stormclouds, singing a single strand of light bouncing across the sand.

"Don't tell me he sent you all the way to the beach this early?" He said. Kate grinned. "He really woke up for that?"

"Like a child on Christmas morning."

She grabbed an orange from a bowl of fruit.

"So," she said as she began to peal the skin of the fruit away, "what do you think?"

Jack shrugged, staring at the dry cereal and wondering if it would be considered a waste to throw away what was left. Only a tiny handful of food was left, and he knew he would be sick if he tried to eat again.

"I'll have to see," he looked to Juliet, "I guess I'm going to the hatch."

She nodded, sitting her own silverware in the pile of dirty dishes.

"Don't sound so excited," Kate said as she led him into the jungle. He looked back at Juliet, who was already talking to Sayid. "So tell me, what's really going on?"

Soon thick jungle blocked the view of the beach. Kate stopped and turned to him. He remained silent.

"Whatever," she muttered. Turning away, she made it clear how hurt she was.

The sickness inside his stomach grew into knots and double-knots, twisting into guilt and a cry for rest. Attaching his eyes to the ground, Jack decided to reply.

"I've just..." again he was struggling to speak; it felt as though he might explode from how tight his stomach felt, how much all of this was effecting him, "I've been seeing somethings and...I hope they're not true."

Kate shot him a sideways glance, sympathetic, concerned.

"Juliet's right," she said, "everything you're seeing might not be real."

"Then how do I know what's real and what's not?" Jack inquired, shooting the reply at her with unnecessary frustration- at least unnecessary frustration to be thrown directly at her. "I would love for these...dreams to not be real."

"Well..." Kate began, running a hand through the wet strands of hair that hung past her shoulders, "was this like your memories? Was it more disbelieving then them?"

"It's hard to believe any of it," Jack muttered, already knowing his answer, "and it was like the rest of them...snapshots of memories. Sometimes there's dialogue. Everything looks so real. I know what's happening. I'm remembering what's happened. It's just like remembering what I just ate for breakfast. It's that clear. It's like the memory never went away. It's when I wake up, when I come out of the memory- then the confusion hits."

Kate nodded, though her eyes were staring distantly in front of her, lost in contemplation of what he was telling her.

"I don't guess you're going to tell me what you saw," Kate said hopefully, smiling a little because she already knew the answer.

Jack shook his head. He wouldn't until he knew for certain the memory was real, and even then...he had already confessed to Kate a lot of what he knew. Did he have the right to keep somethings secret? She would never understand what they went through, telling her would only worry her, maybe even frighten her into staying away from him. She began walking forward again. He watched her solemn steps, listened to the silence that settled in. Was it so wrong to not tell her? He couldn't help but to remind himself that she still had her fair share of secrets too. He still didn't know what she did...

A flash hit him as his hand fell on the hatch door.

_He was being led into a small room: four faded white walls that seemed to disappear under the dim light; a cool draft that he soon realized would never go away._

_"You'll be staying here for awhile."_

_He couldn't see who was speaking to him. The door shut with difficulty; two slight pulls to get the lock to latch right. Jack's eyes fell on the far corner of the room where two residents set. Children. Two kids. They couldn't have been older than ten. A boy with dirty dark blonde hair and gray-blue eyes that looked away as Jack stared at them. And a girl. Her hair matched the color of the boy, pulled back into a ponytail that fell down her back. Both of their faces were equally as pale, their eyes distant and helpless. _

Jack came out of his memory finding himself staring at the hatch door, victim to Kate's confused, concerned, gaze.

"Jack?" She asked, placing a hand on the door and opening the hatch herself.

He shook his head and followed her inside. He wished he could still feel like he did moments ago, instead of having to stay true what he told to Kate: understanding and then not understanding, as quickly as snapping his eyes open.

"So what's the verdict?"

Sawyer was sitting up on the couch, fully dressed, shoes included. Kate rolled her eyes and followed Jack to him. He noticed right away that Sawyer wasn't holding his injured arm or giving any sign that he was in pain, but when Jack lifted the cuff of the arm of his shirt he gave a noticeable wince.

"A bullet went through my arm," Sawyer said, glaring at Jack as he noticed the wince, "it's gonna hurt. Besides, what the hell's the difference between sitting here and doing nothing and sitting at the beach and doing nothing?"

"For one, it's raining."

After carefully pulling back the bandages the healing bullet wound was now exposed on Sawyer's arm; what had once been a bloody mess was now simply bruises and scarred skin.

"No kidding," Sawyer remarked, "you look like hell."

"Thanks."

He only let him mind stray shortly from the task at hand, shoving aside the images of those kids, their drained faces and the bones that seemed to be cutting into their skin. Without realizing it he shook his head.

"What?" Jack looked up, confused at the worried expression so clearly etched on Sawyer's face.

Swallowing, Jack looked away, taking a final attempt at blocking out the memories.

"Nothing," he lied.

Slowly, carefully, he began to lift Sawyer's injured arm in tiny inches. It felt like he was holding the weight of what holding two arms at the same time should feel like; Sawyer tensed, Kate instantly reached for his hand.

"I'm fine," Sawyer shot, glaring at her as she backed away.

He began to lower Sawyer's arm again.

"You're okay to go back, but it is raining, Not exactly the best conditions for your first trip back to the beach," Jack said, instinctively glancing towards the door of the hatch. He searched for the sounds of the distant rain but realized there was only silence.

"The rain comes and goes here like a pregnant woman's emotions change," Sawyer said, "and trust me, you weren't here for the worst of Sun's pregnancy."

A smile escaped him, clashing horribly with the image of the dreary room the kids were locked in. The smile faded as quickly as it came.

"Fine," Sawyer was right, the rain probably had stopped by now, "Kate, can you handle this?"

She nodded.

"I think the important thing is to explain to him the importance of not getting himself fatally injured," she said with a smile.

"I wasn't going to die," Sawyer protested, "stop stalling. I've been in here so long I've realized why Radzinsky wanted to kill himself."

"I'm sure Desmond would love your theory," Kate replied. She smiled at Jack. Taken aback, he managed a forced smile before it was too late.

A stash of antibiotics had formed on a table near the couch, including what little was left of the familiar medicine he had prescribed to Sawyer eleven months ago.

"Make sure he takes these," he said, handing her the bottle of pills.

"I know," Kate said with a smile.

"It's dejavu, ain't it?" Sawyer retorted.

Shaking his head, Jack struggled to see the humor in Sawyer's comment.

"Let's just make sure it doesn't happen again."

He left as Kate began to help Sawyer stand, leaving them to the long-awaited moment they'd been awaiting for days. Since the night the Others came they had been trapped in here, unable to move on like everyone else. But they weren't the only ones. He couldn't let go, not from the memories recently plaguing his mind, not from the murder that still dwelled in the back of his thoughts, though he scarcely let the memory come to surface.

When he entered the laundry room it was obvious there was little management over the appearance of the hatch. Jeans, t-shirts, and various other clothing had originally been separated into piles that now spilled over one another, mixing together a once-organized separation of sizes. But as he selected items that looked to be close to his side Jack noticed one particular outfit that hadn't been touched in weeks: torn jeans and a Dharma t-shirt thrown in the back of the room, shoved into a corner as though hoping to be forgotten.

_"What's that?" He asked the girl, nodding towards the book she held in her hands._

_She showed him the title without speaking: _Megan's Island_ by Willo Davis Roberts._

_"Looks like you're almost finished," he said. A finger held the rest of the book back as her eyes stayed glue to the last couple of pages. Silence answered him as the girl continued to refused to speak to him. Her brother slept beside her; the silence drew on._

Another flash of memory hit him. _Strong sunlight poured into the environment around him. His feet pounded against the jungle floor as he ran. Harsh, rapid breaths seemed to haunt him with every step. And then a scream..._

Jack's hand hovered over the jeans and t-shirt, the clothes he had been wearing when he returned to the castaway's camp for the first time in nine months. Suddenly the memory was gone from his mind, replaced by shock. And fear. He snatched his hand away, fighting off the urge to delve further in search of the end of the memory and fear of knowing what happened, in both cases. Where were the kids? Why had Juliet screamed? Was it his fault that he was able to get away, and not her?

"Jack?" He turned, surprised to hear Kate's voice. "I just wanted to let you know that it did stop raining. We're going to the beach now." She studied him when he didn't reply; he realized a moment too late that he hadn't spoke. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said, swallowing the dry fluid surfacing in his throat.

She nodded, clearly not convinced.

"Okay," she said anyway, glancing around the room, "see you later then."

She smiled, sympathetic, aware that he was hiding something, and left the room.

----

The last of the rain stood in slippery, wet, brown grass of the jungle, sliding beneath their feet as she and Sawyer struggled to walk the simple path back to the beach. Both breathing hard, stumbling with every step, her arm constantly slipped from where her arm rested on his shoulders, trying to help him walk

"Okay, I need a break," Sawyer announced, pushing her arm away as he lowered himself to the ground.

Silently grateful for the break herself, Kate didn't protest, nearly collapsing to the ground beside him.

"You sure you ain't lost?"

If she hadn't known his constant need to tease and make fun she would have thought he was serious: injured arm resting in his good hand, sweat slipping down his face, skin a shade paler than when they left the hatch...maybe he was serious.

"Stop complaining, I told you you should've waited a couple of more days," she retorted.

But her smile faded as she noticed an object stashed away beneath nearby bushes, hugging the ground for comfort from the storm.

"What're you doing?" Sawyer demanded as she cautiously stepped towards the object, pushing away drenched tree limbs for a better look.

Hands pushing away drying dirt, she was finally able to see the object clearly: it was a book. _Megan's Island_, by Willo Davis Roberts. The book was folded, as though it had been stored away and neglected. Drops of rain tinted the tan pages of the book's interior, and as she flipped through the pages she saw that the words were slightly blended together, some of the ink was swimming off the pages. Until she reached the back of the book. Running her fingers along the crisp, sharp edges of the bind of the interior, her eyes landed on where the last few pages of the book had been torn out.

"Let me see that," Sawyer said, instantly snatching the book away like a jealous child as she stumbled back to her spot beside him, "this ain't from around here."

"Well it couldn't have migrated to the island itself," she said, taking the book back, "where do you think it came from?"

"Do we really want to know the answer?"

Their eyes met; she knew he was right.

"Let me see that," Sawyer said, holding his hand out for her to give him the book, breaking the silence, "maybe Walt will want it."

Kate rolled her eyes.

"He's a ten year old boy, not a nine year old girl," she said, but threw the book at him anyway, "come on, let's go."

Wrapping his arm around his shoulder once more she prepared herself for the rest of the walk to the beach. The slow pace they started out with would be as fast as they would reach; they would be lucky if it didn't start raining again before they reached the beach.

"So what's with Jack?" Sawyer inquired, not even three feet away from where they had rested.

Kate paused. She didn't know what was wrong with Jack. With his game of only letting her know just as much as she needed to know, she was slowly becoming as detached from him as before.

"He hates the rain," she muttered in reply, quickly, hoping they would drop the subject as they continued their walk to the beach.

----

He found Alex sitting by the ocean, an obviously measured distance away from her mother's camp. The end of the rain brought a cool breeze that settled over the island, but Sayid knew it was only momentarily; in less than a half an hour a new rainstorm would start. Or perhaps just a continuation of the last, as though this pause for serene atmosphere was a planned break, a warning.

"Do you mind if I have a seat?" He asked. She shook her head 'no', and he sat down, eyes instantly drawn to the distant stormclouds Alex stared at. He then stole a glance in her direction, hoping to catch a glimpse of her eyes, see what was inside. Suddenly her eye twitched; she caught him staring at her.

"Sometimes I want to get off this island as much as you do," she began quietly, already blending in well by the peaceful world Alex had built around her.

"'Sometimes'?" Sayid repeated.

"Just to see what's out there..." her eyes trailed back to the sea, suddenly dark, defensive, "look, I know what you think of me. You think I'm one of them. But really, I hardly know them."

"But what do you know about them?" He said, quickly taking advantage as Alex's eyes seemed to darken at the thought of 'her people'. She shook her head, frustrated and angry.

"I know that they did something to him- Jack." She looked at him, eyes wide as she awaited his reaction.

But he knew she had to know more. Alex was quiet, secretive, uncertain of her past and the people around her, but with growing up with the Others, she had to be observant.

"What did they do to him?" He inquired, pressing softly on his voice in attempts to be more gentle with his words, not demanding like his curiosity wanted him to be.

Again her eyes were locked on the sea, twitching, squinting against the gray clouds looming above them in attempts to see through the cloudy vision that was her understanding of the Others.

"They did something to him," she said again, slowly and careful, "something to make him different."

Eyes narrowing, his tone slipped, curiosity rising as he grew closer to answers that would surely change everything.

"Different how?"

His answer was a single look, Alex's eyes connecting with him as she turned to him, warning him of the water he was treading. Her piercing eyes, the sharp depth of the glare told him she knew exactly what was going on with the Others.

----

He wasn't sure how long he'd been down there. There was no longer an alarm constantly reminded them of just that. The hatch and all of its purpose had disappeared, and if he wanted, he could leave now and never think of the place again. Instead he sat in the booth serving as a kitchen table, losing himself in his desperate search for answers. He remembered the dream he had the night before; he closed his eyes, blocking the image out in hopes that it wouldn't trigger further memory. And instead...

_She was finally talking to him. Not making eye contact, but he was finally learning more about her, the quiet girl whose voice struggled to reach louder than a whisper. Her brother was gone, leaving only herself and Jack in the small room._

_"They take him more than me," she was telling him._

_"Why?"_

_She shrugged._

_"Maybe they have the information they want," she suggested. Her fingertips ran over the edges of the book Megan's Island, her eyes gazed longingly at its pages. "Maybe they want to see if he's like me."_

_"What do you mean, 'like me'?" He inquired, eyes following her fingertips as she opened the book slightly, hiding the contents of its pages from his vision. He sighed, casually leaning his head against the wall in the hopes that he might catch a glimpse of what was on the last few pages that had grasped her interest so fiercely. But she concealed the story from him well, opening the book only slightly enough for her eyes to see._

_She shrugged again._

_"I'm different."_

_She left him with that, falling back into silence. Her eyes drifted from the book to the locked door leading to the hallways that would help her find her brother, and safety. But her eyes simply fell back to her book._

When had 'different' become such a strong word in his vocabulary? It was a special code that only a select few were supposed to understand; all of those who had been with him in captivity at the Others' camp. Something happened to them, something that made them different...

And deep down, he knew what 'different' meant. But it was so absurd, so unrealitic...but true. He had been playing around with the idea in his mind, noticing the paranormal happenings that recently haunted his life. Maybe it wasn't so absurd.

A bag of Dharma Chocolate Chip Cookies still sat on the other end of the table, leftover from his dinner with Kate the night before. His eyes fell on the bag, not exactly sure what he was supposed to feel or think. But he knew what he wanted to accomplish; he wanted to see if it would work.

It happened without him feeling anything. Without him being aware of thinking of anything particular. In mere seconds of coming up with the idea, a single chocolate chip cookie appeared in his hands. He hadn't picked it out of the bag; he hadn't even noticed it flying through the air.

----

Sayid volunteered a shift in the Pearl Station that afternoon soon after his conversation with Alex. Alone underground, his eyes focused on the security camera videos in front of him, on the blank videos of hatches elsewhere on the island. Only static filled those screens; they knew he was watching. But a single set of screens hadn't been turned off: those of the Swan Station. They remained there, allowing the castaways to spy on one another, allowing the Others a clear view into their daily lives.

A single shot of a camera sat on the kitchen, unmoving, not having to move to find the most interesting happenings of the room. Jack sat at the kitchen table, alone. Head in his hands, eyes closing and then reopening. Silence.

Sayid blinked, convinced his eyes had been playing tricks on him. Now Jack was eating, the food having appeared literally out of nowhere. He watched as he ate, the food too miniscule to be identified, but single servings soon appeared in Jack's hand, one by one, out of nowhere, until Jack closed his eyes again. Held his head in his hands. Unaware that someone had just seen what had happened, what made Jack 'different'.

----

The challenge of having to help Sawyer walk mixed with the inconvenient muddy conditions of the jungle brought them walking at an almost non-exsistentent pace. Sawyer had long-since dropped the book, thrown it back into the jungle. Unfortuently his frustration hadn't been thrown out with it.

Suddenly cold liquid began to pound against their bodies, spreading so quickly across the jungle that in seconds they were unable to see clearly through the rain. Sawyer cursed; she didn't have the energy to yell at him for it. Blinded from the path to the beach that had at least been somewhat clear moments before, Kate came to a halt, displaced by the rainstorm. And the certainty that someone was yelling, calling for them. Wiping the rain away from her eyes she stopped, looked around. Sawyer stared at her, blinking in the rain as he waited for an explanation.

Her feet gave out before her, stumbling back. A hand grabbed her arm, shaking, unstable. Their eyes didn't meet, the almost fall was shaken off as they focused on the two kids that came staggering out of the bushes. A boy and a girl. Young; ten years old at the most. Blond hair wrapped around the girl's shoulders and back in long, messy strands; the little boys eyes were almost covered by the bangs that were glued to his eyes by the rain.

"What the hell-"

"Jack!" The little girl exclaimed, cutting Sawyer off. She nearly stumbled to the ground herself, too overcome with tears and desperation to be heard by the rain to control her balance. Her hand was latched with the boy's palm. "We need to find Jack!"

**Author's Notes:** Does anyone else think it's funny that I chose chocolate chip cookies to express this new ability Jack has? Yes! Jack has the ability to mentally make as many cookies appear out of nowhere as he wants! How awesome is that?

Thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	22. Children

Life Interrupted

Chapter Twenty-Two

**Author's Note:** Don't forget, the entire hatch story of the second season finale never happened here. Well, it happened, but not with the same results. So Eko's still alive. Also, all the flashbacks from the show apply to this story. You also get the answers to a couple of mysteries in this chapter, but you don't know all the answers yet.

**Chapter Twenty-Two:** Children

Their mouths hung open, rain escaping inside their throats as they stared at the two children in front of them, shaking in the cold rain.

"You know Jack?" Sawyer shouted over the rain.

The girl shook her head years; tears ran down her face, mixing in terribly with the rain. Both of the children's lips were blue, their skin trembling madly as they held hands.

"How-" but the little girl's watering eyes cut Kate off, her desperate gaze pleading for her to skip the interrogation.

Then the little girl's eyes turned up to the sky. The rain stopped. The children's shoulders still shook, their skin still pale and blue.

She turned to Sawyer, "I'll go get him."

Her feet stumbled at first over the thick mud, but she was able to take off towards the hatch before Sawyer could protest. When she left him, he looked to shocked to even think of arguing.

Scrambling through the mud in her dash to the Swan, Kate nearly collapsed as her hand fell on the door. She hurried inside, sliding and almost falling again. Her hands clung to the walls, feeling her way to the living room as she regained her balance.

"Jack?" She called.

She shook with rain and shivers that had taken over her. Steady, curious, footsteps entered the room, and Jack's confused eyes soon fell on her as her shoes shrieked noisily against the smooth floor from the water that soaked them.

"Is it raining again?" He asked, a smile pulling at his lips.

She rolled her eyes.

"You think?" She shot back.

He picked up a towel she didn't remember seeing laying on the couch and handed it to her. Taking the towel gratefully, Kate wiped the water away from her eyes.

"Did Sawyer make it back okay?" He said.

How did she tell him? More of his past literally stumbled back into his life just moments ago, and she didn't even know if he would remember.

"Jack..." she trailed off, hoping her gaze wasn't too sympathetic, "there's someone here to see you."

He stared at her, understandably confused, and she had no real explanation to give him.

"What do you mean?" He inquired. His voice was slightly uneven; he didn't understand and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

She hesitated, her eyes trailing away even as she figured out what she would say.

"Kids," she said finally, fighting to get her voice higher than a whisper, "two kids. A boy and a girl."

She glanced towards him, trying to catch a reaction. And there it was: a single, momentary flash of recognition. Confusion. And concern. Did he know who this kids were- what happened to them? Was it part of the reason he may have unconsciously wanted to forget the past?

"They know who you are," she continued, curiosity slowly setting aside hesitation, "do you remember any kids?"

Jack looked away.

"Yeah."

They each looked away; she wasn't sure what she was supposed to say to him. But he remained silent and began walking out of the hatch, expecting her to follow though he couldn't have known exactly where he was supposed to be going.

----

Though a muggy, dry, air had settled after the rainstorm the sun was already hanging high above them, drying the mud and washing away trails the storm left behind. Kate walked behind him, silent, as he followed the trail to the beach, assuming that's where these children she talked of would be. Kids. Was it too much of a coincidence that the two kids showed up hardly a day after he remembered him? Jack shook his head, answering his own hidden questions. He didn't want to think about coincidence. He was already torturing himself trying to wrap his mind around the idea that he had some kind of...psychic power. He had always been a man of science, but also a man of reason. Psychics weren't real. There was no explanation as to why one person would randomly have powers like this; unless, it seemed, that person had been taken by an organization of scientist turned kidnappers.

Kate walked a few feet ahead of him, and Jack knew they were there. Sawyer was sitting on a rock ahead, two kids were huddled together on the trail across from him. A boy and a girl. No older than ten. The girl's dirty blonde hair had grown too long, unkept after months of being held captive. And the boy simply looked frozen in terror, staring at the ground in front of him wide-eyed, both their lips a paling blue from the cold and rain.

"Hey," Kate greeted, approaching them with caution as she stood beside Sawyer. The kids weren't startled at all; they didn't even acknowledge her.

"They haven't said a word," Sawyer said, irritated, rain dripping from his face, "they won't tell me a damn thing."

The little girl must have realized Kate and Sawyer weren't alone. Her eyes traveled slowly from the ground, following Jack's shadow with eyes of fear; that fear never fully melted away when their eyes met. He managed a small smile.

"Hey," he said.

The smile wasn't returned and the girl looked away.

"Can you at least tell us your names?" Sawyer protested, not hiding his impatience.

The girl's eyes trailed up to Jack again, hauntingly hollow and unresponsive.

"He knows," she whispered.

Jack knelt down to her level, dried mud instantly staining the legs of his jeans. She looked at him, then to the ground, trying to hide.

"You can talk to them," he encouraged gently, "they're not bad."

"I know."

The girl slid her knees to her chest. Jack sighed, eyes lingering on her, hoping she would speak. He would have made a terrible shrink.

"Emma." The word slip from her mouth dryly, quietly as possible as though the name had no real meaning to her. "And his name's Zach."

"How old are you, Emma?" Kate asked, as gently as Jack had spoken; he got the sudden feeling of the three of them being cops, interrogating a child after witnessing some traumatic crime. That wasn't far from the truth, but they weren't cops, and they would have to figure out how to deal with this on their own.

"Eleven," she replied; so he had been wrong about her age, "Zach's nine."

Kate only gave her a short pause of silence before continuing their interrogation, and Jack suddenly wished that the questions could wait, even if he was just as curious about the answers.

"Where are your parents?" Kate asked.

Emma looked at Jack, pleading for his help.

"I don't want to answer any questions," she said. She swallowed nervously, stumbling over her thoughts as she tried to save herself from the interrogation, "I...I want to sleep."

She looked to the ground and fell silent. He realized her eyes had closed, her head falling to her arms that rested on her knees. Kate looked to Jack, obviously unhappy with Emma's sudden decision to take a nap.

"They've probably been walking for days," Jack said. He glanced towards Emma's sleeping form. "I'll carry her back to my tent. They can stay with me."

Kate nodded; Sawyer remained silent. Jack noticed his hand was rested on the wound on his shoulder. No one made any protest, and Jack stood up, preparing to carry the girl back to the beach. But he was cut short: Zach's eyes flashed to him, dark, foreboding. Unlike the hollowness of Emma's gaze. Jack stared at him, taken aback, and quickly promised:

"I'm not going to hurt her."

Zach looked away, eyes falling silent. But Jack had already seen what he was hiding, the strong desire to protect his sister and worse, the fear that someone would hurt them.

----

He only had the walk to the beach to decide how he would tell everyone about the kids. They walked silently with Sawyer still grasping his injured shoulder painfully, walking with a tired limp, and Kate fighting to not say anything about that. Emma was asleep, and Zach's own eyes were threatening to close. Every now and then Jack would glance down at the boy's silence, but Zach would never look at him. The boy walked in a dream-like state, his tiny feet shoveling against the dry mud as he pushed himself forward, mind concentrating on the thought of sleeping. And the thought of being somewhere safe. These kids had escaped the Others, he assumed alone. They had been running in fear to Jack, who they knew they could turn to for help. But how was he supposed to tell everyone else that their camp was once again a target?

Eko spotted them first, as though he had been waiting all this time to see Jack walking back, the kids with him. He stood, Charlie and Claire following, Aaron's fist tightly hidden in her hand. The castaways formed a circle around him, trapping him. Jack's words came out slightly hoarse as he was forced to speak; this would be one of the first times he'd address the camp as a whole since his disappearance. He looked around at their familiar faces that held months of missing information he would never know.

"They came to me for my help," Jack explained. His eyes found Michael in the back of the group, hands rested on Walt's shoulders. Walt, who Jack hardly recognized now. Would he know about Zach and Emma? Gazing at Jack without a trace of emotion, it was obvious he didn't. "They're okay, they're not with the Others or anything." He felt Kate's eyes on him momentarily, demanding to know how he could be so certain of this. But as he glanced around, studying the castaway's reactions, he found the majority opinion to be bland unconcern. "Don't worry, I'll take care of them."

There was no verbal response. Just their stares, following him as he cut through the circle; footsteps followed him.

"So where are their parents?" He tried not to sigh at Charlie's interrogations. "How long have they been with the Others? What did they do them? Jack- talk to me!"

Jack spun around; Zach looked between the two men, eyes still vacant.

"They were on the plane," Jack said, impatience slipping through him, "and I don't know where their parents are."

He turned back towards his tent.

"Our mom's in Los Angelas."

Jack turned around, eyes wide at Zach's sudden, soft, announcement; but he realized too late what he must have meant.

"We told you that." Zach looked up at him, as though Jack had just taken away their Christmas.

He would have to tell them about losing his memory. Sometime. But not now. Jack sighed and stepped into his tent.

"So we're just going to believe this?" Charlie held the tent open as Jack carefully placed Emma on the ground; he sighed, smiling a little when he saw that she had managed to stay asleep during all of this.

But at hearing Charlie's inquiry, he looked up at him, anger brewing inside him.

"Yeah," he was stunned that Charlie even had the nerve to interrogate him in front of the kids they were talking about. He was even more disturbed by the fact that Charlie was questioning his trust in him. "Don't you trust me?"

A moment's of hesitation. Charlie chewed on his lower lip, trying to avoid catching Jack's eye.

"You've been gone for nine months," Charlie began, his uneven, uncertain tone telling Jack that he hated what it was he had to say, "that's longer then we knew you in the first place."

"You trusted me the first day when you had never seen me before!"

He stood, stepping outside the tent, eyes falling darkly on Charlie's startled reaction. Silence passed between them. No one gathered around them, but Jack could feel their eyes from nearby. It was too much to be able to understand: suddenly no one trusted him, and even as he started to remember things he still knew he was innocent. All he'd ever done was help these people; he never would have imagined that they would turn against him.

"This is just so much bigger now," Charlie said, quietly picking the conversation back up, "I have Claire to look after, and Aaron. I just have to make sure they're not in danger."

Jack shook his head.

"They're not."

He turned away. He wasn't going to argue in his defense anymore or for the defense of two kids. No one seemed to mind that Walt had returned, and at the thought his eyes searched the beach. Sure enough there was Walt, standing with Michael at the back of a crowd that was forming along where the jungle met the beach. Talking about Jack. He met Michael's eyes, cold and warning him to stay away, though Jack couldn't understand why.

----

His eyes wondered over the horizon at the grey clouds, fighting to part to let in a cool morning sun. Jack stayed on the beach, paranoid of disturbing the kids from their sleep: partially because he knew they needed rest, partially because he had no idea what to say to them and was terrified of having to handle this situation. They were kids. He was obviously supposed to take care of them...like a father. His philosophy on how to be a parent had always been simple: to act the opposite of Dad. But these kids were traumatized, they belonged in a hospital, and they needed professional psychological help. He probably needed help.

A laugh escaped him at the truth of that thought.

_Jack was seated along the opposite wall from Zach. Emma was missing; Zach was sitting with his back against a wall, staring at the ground in front of him. Tired eyes lazily shooting beams of hope at the ground, determined to stay awake until his sister came back. Emma's paperback book was hidden so that whomever walked through the door wouldn't see it. He threw a glance towards Zack, hoping the boy would answer him._

_The door opened, and Emma stumbled into her room, right hand clutching her left arm, just below her elbow. She nearly fell to the floor beside Jack. Dried tears streaked the dirt and grime that had permanently melted into her face. He took her arm gently, and she let him slide her hand away, revealing a thick red dot amongst faded bruises and other dots from the tips of a needle. Jack looked her in the eye and she gazed back at him, knowing what he was wondering. Maybe today he would get an answer._

_"What did they do to you?" He shook at her silence, her contemplative hesitance as she wondered if she could trust him with whatever secrets she held._

_She reached out and grabbed his arm. His left forearm, just below his elbow; almost identical in the results of being poked and prodded with Their experimental drugs...whatever it was they were doing to him. But her grip was too tight with surprising force: the desire for revenge she had been holding in for the past ten months of her life. He winced and she saw; a numbing pain rushed through him until she released her hold on his arm, instead sliding her hand against his skin until their silence was a mirror, each of their thoughts and their frozen position in time equal._

_"What did they do to you?" She echoed, her determination for answers easily finding strength in her voice._

_It wasn't something he wanted to explain to a child. He didn't even have the explanations himself. But he feared, and he saw the proof on both of their arms, that whatever his answer was hers would be deathly similar._

_For the moment she seemed to understand. She saved him, dropping his arm, shifting so that she was sitting against the wall beside him. His hand fell from her arm as well, and both of their eyes simutainiously fell to Zach, who hadn't looked up even when Emma entered the room. The little boy had become so wrapped up in the terror of his life that it was like his mind had shut off, and even if sometimes he was aware what was going on and of his worry for his sister he was still too lost to comprehend completely._

_"Why doesn't he talk?" Jack asked, curious as to what her answer would be. He nodded towards Zach._

_Emma shrugged, the intensity of her return to the room fading at the question, as though she might have even been amused. He'd never heard her laugh, he realized, her or Zach. Or smile. But why would they?_

_"I don't know," she replied lightly, "because he's still trying to get past the fact that he was kidnapped, that he's been held captive for the past ten months. Or maybe the fact that he was in a plane crash."_

_"Then why are you talking to me?" _

_She looked at him, the slightest of a twinkle in her eye, as he should have obviously known the answer._

_"Someone has to figure out who you are," she replied. Drawing her knees to her chest, she rested her head on her arms. "Was there anyone with you when you were taken?"_

_Jack nodded. Seven months and the memory of that day could play through his mind without a single scratch of uncertainty._

Another flash of memory.

_"Where are they?"_

_Jack remained silent; if they wanted to waste their time actually thinking he knew something, when they had him shut up in a room for almost a week, then he wasn't going to give into their stupidity. Not until a fist came down, landing just below where a bruise had already formed on his jaw. The blonde girl who still hadn't told him her name screamed._

_"Where are they?" Zander demanded, raising his fist again. Jack didn't answer; the fist came down again. He jerked back as pain ripped through him. The girl screamed again. "Where-"_

_"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Jack shouted, throat bursting at the stinging wetness in his eyes and the burning pain in the back of his mouth._

_And all through this he had been processing what he knew. Kate and Sawyer escaped. Somehow, they escaped. They were safe. But he was still here..._

_The door slammed, and he was left alone with the blonde girl. Tears were in her eyes; she seemed more shaken then he was._

"Jack?"

He blinked and looked up. Eko was standing above him. Jack tried to shake off the shock from his newest recollection of his past.

"Yeah?" He said, forgetting why his voice shouldn't be sore like in his memory.

"I'll take care of him."

Jack stared at him, waiting for him to explain, though Eko watched him as though wondering why he didn't understand.

"I'll take care of the children," Eko explained. Jack nodded, though he quickly realized this was just a reflex.

The kids were his responsibility. He knew that much was obvious from his memories, as confused as he was about the situation. As much as he was afraid he was digging himself into a hole he would never know how to climb out of.

"No," he said, shaking his head, staring ahead wide-eyed to the ocean, his head finally wrapped around the necessity of this new responsibility, "I'm taking care of them."

"Please," Eko was smiling as best as he could, trying not to appear too desperate, "I saved their lives."

Jack just shook his head, silent; knowing he didn't have an argument that Eko would agree was better. But he had taken care of these kids before, he had been there for them. Or he had just sat there, happened to be in the same place as them.

A scream came from his tent nearby. Emma. Jack leapt to his feet, chasing the scream until he fell to his knees in front of Emma. Tears clouded her eyes, and a single teardrop washed away the mud and grime still mixed in with her skin.

"It's okay," he promised. He sat his hand on her shoulder, wondering if it would startle her if he placed his arm around her. But she collapsed into his arms, pulling him into a hug, crying into his shoulder. His eyes turned, astonished, to Eko, not recognizing how it felt to have a child cry out for his help.

Eko turned and walked away. Left alone aside from Emma's tears he realized just how much he wanted to help these kids. He wrapped his arms around her more tightly, whispering the promise that she was safe over and over again in her ear, honestly believing that this was true.

----

Emma's screams echoed back and forth in his mind between her tears and the promise he told her- that she was safe. When he shook the thoughts away they came chasing after him even faster, louder, breaking his concentration and it was all he could do to not give in. He worried the memory was a test of his confidence, of the trust he had in himself that he could keep the kids safe. And just as tempting, the thought of revenge, the idea that had been tossing and turning in the back of his head since the moment he started regaining his memory. But revenge was too risky. They were safe...it had to stay that way.

"Jack?"

He turned at Kate's voice, meeting the half-smile that greeted him.

"What are you doing?" She asked casually; he gave into her hope for time to decide how she would say what she really had to say.

Looking down, Jack only now became fully aware of where he was: the kitchen on the beach. He had decided to get the kids something to eat.

"I figured the kids would be hungry when they woke up," he said, echoing his thoughts as they came to him, "they must have been running for days. No wonder Emma collapsed in exhaustion."

"And the boy?" Kate said. "How's he?"

Jack glanced towards his tent, quiet and calm as the children slept inside. As his eyes drifted back to Kate, he immediately caught a glimpse of something she had been hiding behind her back, sneaking out of hiding and into view without her realizing it: Emma's book, _Megan's Island_.

"He's okay," Jack said, his eyes shifting back to her, "he's quiet."

"Yeah..."

Kate trailed off, her eyes falling to the ground. She realized the book was in his realm of vision; he had been waiting for her to bring up the subject.

"I was wondering if you recognized this," she said, handing the worn book to him, "I found it in the jungle."

The stiff-dry pages falling into the palm of his hands were twice the weight the book would have normally been. Dirt lingered around the edges of the damp pages, and when he forced the book open- the pages breaking apart in sections- dirt feel to the ground. A tiny insect scrambled out from the pages that had collapsed around him. The bug jumped to the ground and fled the scene before Jack had a chance to think of killing it. But his first instinct was to turn to the back pages of the book. The first half of the novel fell in a dead heap to the rotting front cover as he turned to the back pages Emma so intensely studied in his memories.

There was nothing there. The story ended with the last line; the traditional spare, blank, pages were missing. Running his finger across the crease in the interior of the book, feeling the roughly cut edges where the missing pages should have been, Jack realized the last pages had been ripped out.

"Well?" He remembered Kate's question at the impatience that hardened her voice.

"No," Jack lied, shaking his head, "I don't remember it."

He handed the book back to her and he knew she knew he was lying. The doubt in her eyes, stirring there, ready to strike at the first hint of evidence of his lies she could find. Silent, keeping the truth carefully sealed behind his wall of blank emotion, he let her study his reaction, determined for her to find no reason that he was lying. Even if he knew she knew. Which made it all worse...it was a disease now, the lies that came so quickly even when he knew she aware of his lies. Everyone probably knew. But that wasn't a problem as long as he never admitted the truth.

"That's my book."

His heart leapt at Emma's voice, the innocent, astonished statement that pierced the echoing screams in his mind, disturbing him as a child-like laughter danced in his head, teasing him as he stared at Emma's tired and confused face. For the first time he saw Emma as a child, unlike he had before, wanting to do something as innocent as reading or playing outside with friends...and as the dark and horrifying reality of what really happened to her hit him he was thrown into silence, into a complete confusion with the world and how it worked- why it worked...why everything was happening.

Her tiny fingers wrapped around the dying corners of the book, tugging it out of Kate's hands. Like Jack she immediately turned to the back of the book, not even acknowledging the state of the book, which was nearly unreadable. This would give him away. Emma looked up to him, her sharp eyes shooting accusations at him before she even explained what was wrong.

"Where is it?" She demanded; he thought it would be impossible for her voice, so small and fragile, to reach this shaken, horrified rage, but she shouted the demand again with even more determination. "Where is it?"

"Where is what?" Kate asked. She was surely keeping herself from glancing towards Jack, determined he knew what Emma was talking about. But this time he honestly wasn't lying.

Emma looked at Jack, her anger shrinking with hesitation. She closed the book gently, her eyes trailing to the sand in hopes to suddenly sink away; with the realization that even Jack didn't know what she was talking about. And he should have.

"You don't remember?" She asked him.

He swallowed, afraid to tell her the truth at the hopelessness in her voice and in her eyes. Still he shook his head, not even knowing how to lie this time and not wanting to. Hanging her head towards the ground Emma turned, walking away with the book still in her hands and all the trust she had put in Jack gone.

"What was that about?" Kate said as soon as she was gone.

He was still staring after Emma, desperate for a way to get her to come back. He would have to explain...it wasn't his fault he didn't remember. He didn't even mean to lie to her.

"I don't know," Jack said, turning back to her.

She still thought he was lying.

"Jack-"

He was ready to argue, ready to admit to the sickness he felt in his stomach now that he had let Emma down, that he really had no idea what he was supposed to do, and as always, a reminder that he didn't ask for this. But a scream cut him off. So familiar, but not exactly as he remembered from earlier that day. The memory still shook him enough to run towards the scream immediately, into the jungle. Suddenly the wish that Kate hadn't followed him occurred to him, though he wasn't sure why.

The scream was only just beyond where the jungle met beach, and his heart beat even faster, eyes dancing around the scene in front of him in a panic. Juliet and Alex were there, Alex with a syringe in her hand that he recognized from his memories. The needle was hovering just above Juliet's left arm. Defense seemed equal as Juliet tried to push Alex away and at the same time the teenager's fingers were wrapped around her arm so tightly thick red dots appeared underneath her hand.

He stopped staring and rushed forward, knocking Alex away. He grabbed the syringe from her hands as Alex stumbled backwards, a scream of surprise escaping her at the force of the attack. Juliet scrambled away, eyes darting between Alex and Jack as he stepped between the two.

"What's going on?" He demanded.

The girl's eyes stared up at him, terrified as she realized the trouble she was in, scared into silence.

"She tried to inject me with that!" Juliet exclaimed, frantic and out of breath.

Jack stepped towards Alex; on instinct the girl flinched.

"She was going to take the injection anyway!" Alex argued, the shrill of her voice rising above Juliet.

His eyes fell on Juliet, and as she took a step backwards from him he knew Alex was telling the truth. Her eyes pleaded for forgiveness and understanding, but the need for him to do so terrified her words into slipping from her uncontrollably, the words of her apology stumbling over one another.

"I changed my mind!" She cried. "I was going to, but then...then I realized that maybe it wasn't such a good idea. And then she came from nowhere and attacked me! She tried to force the needle into my arm- she wanted me to take the injection. She's still one of Them!"

Never offering the forgiveness Juliet was searching for, he turned back to Alex. She looked too terrified to be one of Them. Her strength snapped in half the moment his eyes fell on her; all she was thinking of was the consequences of her actions- not even the possibility of escape. But Juliet's words told otherwise; the attempt at an attack he witnessed told otherwise.

"What are these for?" He said, holding the injection just inches from Alex's face. She didn't answer, shaking in silent fear. He yelled at her even more loudly. "What are they for? Why did you need to give them to her?"

"I-" Alex swallowed, teardrops appearing in her eyes despite her fight to remain strong, "I don't really want to protect what they're doing. But those people, they raised me! If they got hurt, if someone tried to kill them-"

"No one's trying to kill anyone," Jack said, "what are you talking about?"

Alex's eyes flashed from Juliet to the syringe in Jack's hand, and finally to his eyes, expecting to find a connection there with his past. Her own need for forgiveness.

"The drug..." she trailed off, still trying to convince herself this was the right thing to do. He waited for her, watching her, waiting for answers. "It takes away her memories."

At the mention of Juliet he glanced towards her. Pale, startled at being mentioned and even more disturbed by what she was hearing. He looked back to Alex, remembering all Juliet had said about not being able to remember her past and not knowing why that was.

"Why would you want to do that?" He said.

Now Alex's eyes were on Juliet, asking for the same forgiveness.

"I don't know," she said, breathing out an air of honesty, "I guess there was something they didn't want her to remember. Something from her past, before the island."

"Well it worked." Jack turned at Juliet's sudden interference, surprised that she was willing to speak up. It seemed that she would rather not have the spotlight on her, to be forgotten and kept out of danger. Now tears stung at her eyes, her skin shook with rage. "I can't remember anything! Nothing! My family, my friends...my husband!"

Her foot stomped angrily against the jungle floor, echoing madly across the humid silence surrounding them. He realized she meant to fight back, literally.

"Juliet-" he grabbed her as she took another step forward, preparing to leap towards Alex, her eyes planning carefully her revenge even as Jack held her back.

"No!" She said; her fist plummeting against his arms. "You know how it feels, Jack! I can't...I can't just not do anything!"

She collapsed against him, exhausted from her sudden range. Head rested on his shoulder she cried he held her, stunned, staring into the jungle.

"I'm sorry."

His head turned to see Alex, her eyes shaking against the threat of her own emotional breakdown. She stepped towards them and then back.

"I'm sorry," she said again and ran away.

He never found out where she went; he didn't follow her to see. Holding Juliet in his arms, he replayed Alex's explanation over and over again in his head. She was the only person willing to give him any real answers. But the answers he got...

Again he looked around the jungle, Juliet's soft cries pounding against the silence around him. It was only then that he realized Kate wasn't there.

----

Emma and Zach were sitting on near the shore by his tent when Jack found them, eating a meal someone must have offered them. _Megan's Island _sat on the ground beside Emma, forgotten as she talked to her brother. It didn't look like he was talking back.

"Hey," he greeted. His voice felt slightly raw after all that had just happening; his thoughts were only now calming down as he neared the calm rhythm of the ocean's waves washing to the shore, relaxed and unafraid. "Mind if I have a seat?"

Emma shook her head; Zach didn't even acknowledge his presence.

"Where'd you get that?" He asked, nodding towards her plate of macaroni and cheese.

"Kate got us some food," she replied.

She also sounded relaxed; not as disappointed in him as before. But as her eyes carefully avoid him, never daring to drift further than the plate of food in her hands, he knew she wasn't any less disappointed than before.

"Emma, listen," he began, trying and failing to make eye contact with her, "I never really got a chance to tell you what happened, but I did forget what happened when I was held captive. All of it."

She looked up at him. The shock of what he said, how unreal it must have seemed to her made her forget to avoid him.

"But I've started to remember somethings," he went on. Their eyes met briefly, and he knew she was having trouble taking this in. Fear leaked from her eyes as she tried to understand; she glanced away, but he continued to explain. "I remember you two. I don't remember that much, but I do remember being there with you two. I even remember the book. I just want you to know that you're safe here and-"

He noticed her eyes had fallen on the decaying book laying in the sand-

_Strong sunlight poured into the environment around him. His feet pounded against the jungle floor as he ran. Harsh, rapid breaths seemed to haunt him with every step. And then a scream..._

_"Jack!"_

_He couldn't answer. The world slipped from beneath him, his back slammed against rocks as he slid down the hill in front of him. Rolling to a stop in the mud below he blinked, eyes dancing around, disoriented. Juliet wasn't there._

_"Juliet!" He shouted. No answer. "Juli-"_

_A foot slammed against his chest. A boot. Green, like military camouflage. He followed the shadow above him until he met a face. He blinked. He was hallucinating...they couldn't have found them. His heartbeat shot to another level, beating rapidly against the foot holding him down._

_"You'll be okay," Alex told him. She was frantically trying to grasp hold of something in her pocket, nerves slowing her down. She pulled out a syringe._

_He fought to get away, pushing himself backwards. Strength was missing. His energy was too scrambled and she was easily able to simply plant her foot deeper into his chest. A flashback of his fight against Ethan hit him, and he feared how similarly this would end. He just didn't want to die...and he had to find Juliet._

_The needle pierced his skin. Even though he saw it coming, even as used to being poked and prodded with the same type of syringe as he was, his muscles tensed drastically. A muffled scream escaped him as he still searched for a way to find the strength to fight back. He tried to lift himself off the ground but was too weak. The drug was rushing through him; he felt as though the energy in him was being turned off by a light-switch. One by one every inch of him relaxed. He was too weak..._

_"You'll be okay," Alex said again._

_Then her foot hit him hard, knocking against his side. He rolled across the jungle floor, blacking out as her footsteps echoed into the distance._

That's what happened to him. The syringe- he remembered the numbers on the side of the one Alex had in the jungle. A flash of memory compared that drug to the one Alex injected into him when he and Juliet escaped. They were the same. The drug that took his memories away.

"Jack?"

Emma's voice brought him back to their conversation. He stared at her, trying to erase the horror on his face, the fear he held for himself and his own well-being...not to mention Juliet and the kids.

"And I'm going to take care of you," he finished.

He forced a smile across his face, but trying to appear content felt too strange. His mind drew his attention away momentarily, and he glanced around the beach nearby. Alex and the man she came back with, from Their camp, were sitting not too far away. Not far away enough. She was dangerous, just as dangerous as Them. And yet...she didn't sound dangerous at all in the memory. She was nervous, and her voice spoke of honesty. She helped him get away. She was only a danger to the Others because, despite the feelings she held towards the Others as being the people who she had known all her life, who raised her, she wanted revenge just as much as he did.

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	23. Eye Of The Storm

Life Interrupted

Chapter Twenty-Three

**Chapter Twenty-Three: **Eye Of The Storm

She sat on the shore, unaware that he was standing behind her, silently debating the right moment to approach her and the right thing to say.

She wasn't the enemy. The thought had been turning in Jack's mind all night, crawling in circles as he found memory after memory that would prove otherwise. Yet she helped him. Alex Rousseau was the reason he was here, back at the beach today. She was also the reason he couldn't remember the past nine months.

Another step forward; he hesitated as a misty wind blew around them. Alex pulled hair away from her eyes as the sea blew a gust of wind and salt into her face. Turning away in disgust, she moved to get to her feet. Her eyes fell on him before he had a chance to run.

"What?" She said bluntly.

A sharp gaze fell on him, pushing him back into hesitation as he met her confusion and fear, the dark highlights in her eyes that told him she was uncomfortable with him being there. He swallowed and opened his mouth, tasting the salty breeze beckoning on the storm ahead of them.

"I know what you did," he took a couple of steps forward, "I remember the day Juliet and I escaped. I know the Others found us. And you were there. They were going to capture me but you got there first, and you injected me with something. That was how I lost my memory." His next step forward began to echo against the damp sand; rain fell in tiny dots around them. "Right?"

Clouds of fear emerged like dangerous sparks of lighting in her eyes. The afternoon shower danced around them, sweeping away the salty smell and replacing the air with a cool trace of a sweet mist. One arm hugged the other, wrapping herself in a protective hug.

"I was helping you," her voice shook as the rain fell in heavier drops around them, piercing his skin, "I was giving you your life back."

"Rather I like it or not my life includes those nine months," Jack shot back, "and it would be nice to have some answers for once instead of someone just taking it all away, like it never happened!"

"Sorry, I thought it would be better if it never happened," Alex snapped over the sharp downpour of rain.

"Well it did!"

A misty silence took over as their eyes fixed on each other, cold accusations of betrayal. The hand holding Alex's arm slipped; her fingers hurried to catch it again, scrambling over the wet surface of her skin. She looked young there, melting in the freezing rain, her kaki pants becoming slick mud and her the worn laces of her tennis shoes buried into the muggy sand. He kept forgetting that she too had escaped, had run away from that life. Was it out of guilt? Had he been the one that caused her to flee her childhood?

"I'm sorry," Alex announced quietly.

Trembling, she walked away, hiding her eyes from him as she headed back towards camp. He watched in silence, unsure of how to argue. Suddenly guilt seemed to have found its way into him though he wasn't sure why. He hadn't been the one who forced Alex to hold him captive. And yet it felt like he had ruined her life, had done something to her that traumatized her, like her childhood had ended more than a year before her eighteenth birthday.

"No one else gets it, but I do!"

He abruptly jerked away from his thoughts at the sudden shouting. Spinning on his feet, confused eyes searched the camp for Hurley's voice. There, just before the trail leading towards the caves and the hatch, Hurley's voice seemed to have frozen Michael in fear of interrupting. Kate stood nearby, watching in shock, too stunned to interfere. Around them others were forming groups, whispering below the rain. Jack watched from afar, making no effort to make any kind of contact with the rest of the group. Still Kate's eyes found him, falling on him with worry. He stared ahead blankly with no answers.

"Everyone's just acting like it's fine that your back," Hurley went on, fearless even at the growing crowd around him. His face was red with anger, maybe even faded tears, and a swift jerk brought Jack back to the time of Libby's death and the quiet horror that settled over the hatch as they were forced to deal with these deaths- the murders. "That's because they don't remember. They don't remember what you did and that you betrayed us! You killed them...you killed Libby! And then you let us get captured, just like that!"

"I had to get my son back!" Michael shouted, snapping back to life. Jack's eyes scanned the people standing around the two. He couldn't find Walt.

"Everything was chaos after that!" Hurley yelled. "You ruined everything!"

There was single reaction of stirring feet, a sudden step forward of the people watching the argument as Hurley began to dart forward, eyes wild with anger and ready to attack. Jin's arm fell around Hurley's waist, struggling to pull him back as Kate's hand landed on Michael's shoulder.

Suddenly Jack felt Hurley's anger. He knew the argument wasn't overreacting. Seeing Kate jump to Michael's defense, so willing to protect the man responsible for the death of two of their own, for the nine months Jack himself spent in captivity, he felt fury and disgust come to life inside him, boiling in his blood with a violent rush of anger.

"Ask Jack!" Hurley suddenly shouted as Jin and Charlie tried to hold him back. "See how he feels...how can you even think about asking him for forgiveness?"

Cold, frozen in place, Jack's thought of running didn't register with his muscles as everyone's eyes fell on him. Charlie said something to Hurley and he and Jin began to lead him away. Kate's eyes remained on him as others began to depart, their curious gazes drifting back to Jack until they were too far away for him to notice. He watched as Kate said something to Michael, who nodded and turned towards the jungle. Then Kate was in front of him, and he was asking himself why he hadn't run this time.

"What were you and Alex talking about?" She asked.

In his mind her curious, sympathetic tone only struck him as another sign that he should be upset and that he should be one asking questions. What had Michael said to them, when she and Sawyer were secretly keeping him and Walt safe? He understood the measure Michael had to take to rescue Walt, but at the same time the consequences soared above the actions; he wondered if Michael felt guilty at all.

"I was just trying to see if she could tell me anything," he replied, grateful for the piece of truth he was able to find.

"Did she?"

He knew this would come; he still didn't know if he should answer. Looking down, he stared at the rain that cluttered the ground, watching as each drop washed away the natural pure lightness of the sand. His eyes snapped back up to her, a sudden need for truth meeting her abruptly. His lies had gone to far, and as Michael's efforts to save his son did their consequences would only cumulate into something he would lose control over.

"She's the reason I lost my memory," he announced. He watched as the pupils of her eyes shrunk into a stunned, narrow pathway towards her soul; she didn't interrupt, her silence pressing him to continue. "When Juliet and I escaped, we got all the way to this side of the island before They found us. But Alex found me first. I had fallen down this hill...when she found me she injected me with something. Something that made me black out. She must of hid me in the jungle. Then I woke up, came back here, knowing nothing of what just happened."

Kate shook her head, eyes growing with disbelief. There had to have been some answer, and he stood in silence as he waited for her to understand. It was harder for her, he realized. She couldn't read his mind and see through his memories. She still had no idea of what the Others were capable of.

"They can do that?" Kate said. "Just like that?"

Jack shrugged.

"Guess so."

Around them rain continued to pound on the ground, harder and louder with each passing moment of silence. His eyes wondered to his tent, sitting next to Juliet's close to the shore, a fair distance away from others. People who still hadn't spoken to him since he returned. And the kids inside his tent...not even teenagers yet, left alone on this island.

A burst of white light shook their skin, ripping through the air with a crack that sent a shiver down the center of the island, trailing beneath their feet.

"I should go," he said, his eyes lingering on his tent, "the kids are alone."

"Yeah," Kate nodded. A smile slipped across her face; tiny raindrops trickled down her lips. She turned before he could say goodbye. They went their separate ways as though only five minutes worth of their time could be spent together before the storm would really break out.

----

The box of cereal slipped beneath her fingertips as Emma tried for the second time to grab them from the top row. Rain left the beach in a puddle, drenching everything in sight and turning the sand an unattractive shade of mud that stuck to their tennis shoes wherever they went. Sayid studied the girl as she wiped her damp hands on her jeans and tried for a third time to get the box down.

"Need help?" Sayid asked, stepping forward before he had to watch the girl suffer another round of defeat.

Her tiny brown eyes studied him, trapped in a horrified silence as she spun around at the unfamiliar voice. He offered her a smile and reached for the cereal.

"Thanks."

If the storm had still been attacking them Emma's voice would have been swept away, shattering as wind and rain tore her small, uncertain voice to pieces. Even as the sun began to emerge behind the clouds the smallest cough or laugh would have made her reply vanish.

"Where's Jack?" Sayid asked.

Emma shrugged. An amused smile slipped across his face.

"He's not doing a very good job taking care of you, is he?" Sayid teased.

The tiny, brown eyes looked up to him, suddenly dark and hurt.

"It's not his job to take care of me," she declared, her voice suddenly strong and capable of fighting against the sudden breeze brushing by them, "I've taken care of myself for eleven months!"

His gaze lingered on her, all amusement replaced with sympathy and curiosity; he had inadvertently found a way to introduce the subject of what he wanted to talk about originally.

"I was wondering if I could ask you about that," he said.

She watched him curiously, too vulnerable of the natural curiosity that came with being a child that she nodded, barely giving a moment's worth of hesitation.

"Okay," she said. Again there was that quiet trace of uncertainty; he smiled again.

----

Sayid poured the dry cereal into a bowl, rising his eyes slightly, admiring Emma's reaction to the hatch. With each brush of hand against a record as she pulled one out after another her eyes widened, marveling at the sight of music that was created decades before she was born.

"Someone used to live down here?" Emma said.

"Yes," Sayid replied, pouring milk into the cereal before sitting it on the kitchen table, "are you ready to eat?"

Taking two steps back, leaping so that she put more space between herself and the bookcase, Emma's gaze lingered on the arrangement of books and records for a last moment, memorizing each title, artist, and author, as though afraid she would never find this place again. Then she turned and raced towards the table, pulling herself into the booth with a childlike grace that planted a smile across his face. He watched as she began eating, engulfing spoonfuls of the sugary cereal that were too large for the spoon. Milk flooded over the edge of the small metal spoon, followed by drenched grains of cereal. He was waiting to be told when he could start answering her questions; now that silence was offering him a chance to speak he felt as if he would be intruding on some sort of peace, the steps towards closure and moving forward Emma was slowly taking now. But she had already eaten a fourth of her meal, and he could not count on her patience to wait for his courage.

"What did you eat, when you were with them?" He asked, carefully choosing a lighter subject that earned him a shrug of the shoulders in return.

Emma drew the sleeve of her shirt across her mouth, pausing only momentarily to answer before she continued eating.

"Whatever they had."

"Where did you stay?"

This time Emma's eyes stayed carefully glued to the cereal, and Sayid realized she was trying to find an escape even as she answered his questions, putting distance between herself and the truth.

"In this room," she replied with the same careless tone, "nothing special."

"When did you meet Jack?" He lowered his voice slightly, slowing down the pace of his words in attempts to carefully time his interrogations, hoping to not scare her.

"They brought him in one day," she said in between spoonfuls of cereal.

"Did he tell you about us?"

"We didn't really talk." Only a small pool of milk was left at the bottom of the bowl. Emma's voice suddenly tensed, growing darker, frightened, as she was forced to face the conversation alone. "But he told us there was a girl they had been holding him captive with. And two others, from the camp he was from. He said he was on the plane."

She pushed away the bowl with abrupt effort and began gazing deeply into the depths of the table.

"But he knows about you," Sayid said, trying to balance encouragement and impatience.

Emma shrugged again. She stared down to the table, but he could still see the tiny dots of guilt swimming in her eyes.

"What do you know about Jack?" He said. "About what they wanted with you?"

When Emma's eyes met his they were full of amazement, of wonder that was too much to handle even after months of time to comprehend.

"He's different," she said. "I guess we both are."

Eyes narrowing, Sayid's mind raced as he remembered all he had seen on the security camera that would prove that everything he had believed about the impossible was wrong. Emma's hesitation drew a tension that seemed to speed along silence, bringing a low hum of anxious impatience to his ears as he watched her mouth hanging open, slightly agape as she contemplated her next statement. Leaning closely to the table, lowering her voice so that only Sayid could hear, terrified that even the silence would listen, words mirroring the amazement in her eyes tumbled out of her mouth, down onto the table that her eyes drifted towards, exchanging frantic, uncertain glances between the table and Sayid.

"We can do stuff that other people can't."

He couldn't stop his eyes from widening, and he knew even anger shattered his calm demeanor as thoughts dove for cover; all he had ever believed in was left shaken, trembling and breaking apart until nothing was left except for his stunned silence.

"What-"

"Sayid?" His eyes flashed towards Alex's voice with a vegenence that startled the teenager; fear and guilt left her frozen.

"Sorry," he apologized quickly, "was there something you wanted?"

Alex cleared her throat, shaking away shock and the obvious answer that yes, of course there was something she wanted to say.

"That's her!" Emma shrieked, jumping up from the table and pointing an accusing but shaking finger at Alex. "She's one of them!"

She slid beside Sayid in the booth, standing next to him. He could feel her skin trembling; a hand that weighed nothing fell on his shoulder.

"It's alright," he told her. Suddenly weary, let down from the interruption that ruined what would have been the most honest and detailed answer he would have received in the past few weeks, Sayid stared at Alex as he waited for her to continue speaking.

Alex looked petrified. She stared wide-eyed at Emma, as terrified of the girl as Emma was of the teenager. Her head shook slightly, her face white and heart beating tightly against her chest. He didn't know Emma's hand dropped until he saw the girl sprinting towards Alex, knocking into her so that her speed and surprise attack made up for her lack in weight that wouldn't be to her advantage. Alex stumbled backward, hands flying up in defense and grabbing the little girl's wrist. Sayid jumped up from the table when he saw Emma's wrist turn red. His hands wrapped around the girl's stomach, pulling her back as Alex took a step backwards, still silent.

"Get away!" Emma screamed, kicking at the air.

There was a sharp jab at his ribs as Emma stabbed him with her elbow. It was the fact that the little girl was suddenly so defensive, so determined to fight back and filled with anger that a normal child her age might never express- not for the reasons she fought back- that scared him. He couldn't react before Emma ran from the room, escaping the hatch.

"Emma!"

A soft slam of a door told him his efforts were useless. He glanced towards Alex, that same weariness apparent in his eyes, sympathetic and struggling to understand. The look he received was cold, blank with fear. He ran out of the room.

"Emma!" He called again as he stepped into the jungle.

An ear-piercing cry of terror, shrieking away anger. The sound of ground being blown away in an explosion. A maddening roar that engulfed the bitterness of the recent moments. Sayid raced towards the sounds, concentrating on the frantic cries from the little girl, practically able to hear the tears pouring down her face, the fear rushing through her. Did she even know what the monster was?

When the cries grew closer, when the screeching screams broke the air like shattered glass, Sayid found the scene, eyes falling on the black cloud swarming above the ground. He had only seen the monster once before but recognized too well the chain that was churning somewhere within the pool of smoke, the howls as though it were the monster that was being hurt. But new to him was the sound of someone being trapped inside, her screams suddenly coming through the end of a long, empty tunnel, where the other end was a place they had spent eleven months fighting to not go to. So how could he give all of that up now, risk his future, everything he had ever lived for? He hesitated only a moment. This little girl that he hardly knew, who was supposedly so special and different, had suffered more than any of them, or at least for longer. How could he go back to L.A. and tell her mother that she had died? After so many deaths they had to report, so many mothers, fathers, family, friends they had to look in the eye and tell them sorry, but they were not able to save them, he couldn't fathom adding another name to the list.

His arm reached inside the black smoke, and he cringed as pain shot up his arm in dozens of spikes. He grasped empty air that was really thick with life, searching for the tiny hand that had weighed so little when reaching out to him for protection.

A set of five fingers latched onto his arm and he pulled, jerking Emma away from the smoke with a force that brought a satisfied grimace to his face when the monster cried out in pain. The two stumbled to the ground, and at the same moment his eyes blinked at the impact the monster disappeared. When he looked up all he saw was Emma twitching on the ground, eyes raining tears. Her screaming had yet to cease. He scrambled to his feet but someone else was already racing past him. The next thing he knew he was watching Jack hold Emma closely to him, her arms wrapped around him and face buried in his shoulder. His eyes were wide, staring in horror at where the monster left them, and Sayid knew he saw the whole thing.

"It's okay," Jack said to Emma, "it's okay, it's okay."

Jack's eyes closed, his eyelids pushing tightly shut in attempts to block out what had just happened, convincing himself what he was whispering to Emma over and over again. Suddenly Emma pulled away, and Jack's eyes opened. Emma was staring at him, fear shaking with life in her drenched eyes.

"I saw you," Emma said, her voice shaking with fragile grief, "it was trying to kill you!"

Both his and Jack's faces contorted into confusion in unison.

"What?" Jack said.

Emma's hands were still wrapped around his neck and Jack's around her waist, reminding Sayid briefly of a father and daughter; he wondered how honest Emma had been when she said that she didn't really know him.

"That...that thing! It was trying to kill you!" Emma began choking, tears rushing down her face, over her lips as she raised a trembling hand to the air. She brushed her finger across Jack's face, over the scars that stood out like a dying scab from the night the Others came. He watched closely as Jack winced, looking stunned as Emma's hand fell to her side. Having now fallen to silence, Emma only stared at his wide eyes of shock, and Sayid wondered if only he could see the recognition that darted in his eyes, the fear that had, at that single moment, swarmed over him like the monster had engulfed Emma, drawing his breath away and sucking out every decent lie he had conjured in the past few weeks.

"That won't happen," Jack finally said. He swallowed, and continued: "That won't ever happen, okay?"

He pulled the girl close to him again, closing his eyes and unsuccessfully hiding all traces of that moment of that one moment of truth.

----

That night Zach and Emma slept in Jack's tent, the kids so small the extra space was hardly noticeable. Unconsciously he realized he had slept better that night, as though without noticing it he had been waiting all this time for the kids to come back to him, to know they were safe.

In the darkness a hand grabbed at his arm. He jerked away from his sleep, thinking at first the hand belonged to Zach or Emma. But the grip was too strong, the fingers pressing into the skin of his forearm until he let out a gasp of pain. There was no light to see his attacker, only an oversized point of a needle that dug into his arm.

He choked back a scream and tears, focusing his mind on fighting back. He wrapped his arms around the attacker's arm, thick muscle that still grasped his own arm. His eyes darted around to see where Zach and Emma were but he could see nothing. The attacker pushed him backwards, his back landing sharply into the sand; he protected his face with his free arm just in time. A fist bounced off his forearm, and the attacker failed at attempting to hit him again as Jack found his strength and sent the attacker stumbling backwards, out of the tent and into the sand and moonlight.

Dr. Campbell stared back at him, sprawled out on the ground, sweat and startled fear rolling down his face. Jack's shoe connected with the doctor's ribs and chest, pausing until Sayid, Kate, and a few other bystanders reached the scene.

Jack held a gun trained carefully on Dr. Campbell, who remained frozen on the ground.

Pausing at the comfort of having the advantage, the gun, Jack took the moment to catch his breath. Sharp breaths of pain leaving him as he instinctively grabbed his left arm, just below his elbow. He looked behind him. Zach and Emma stood alone, Emma's arm wrapped protectively around her brother.

"What happened?" Sayid demanded, standing over Dr. Campbell.

"He just attacked me," Jack said, taking in the cool breeze as he tried to regain his breath.

Kate appeared at his side, eyes squinting in the dark to where he held his left arm. She pried away his hand, revealing thick black and blue skin from the fight and a red blur from the needle.

"I'm fine," he told her. He was fine considering he needed to find out what was going on: why the doctor was here, what he just injected him with.

Looking around, he noticed that the rest of the camp had stayed hidden, clinging to the shelter of their tents in hopes of shielding themselves from harm's way.

"Do you know who he is?" Sayid inquired, eyes cold and narrow as he glared down at Dr. Campbell.

"He's their doctor," Jack replied.

He received glances of surprise- whether at the information or the offer of one of his memories he didn't know. He tried not to care.

"What does he want?"

Slightly taken aback at being interrogated, his mind still reeling from the attack and the fear that had rushed through him for the children's safety, fear of another attack by the Others, Jack shook his head.

"I don't know," he said.

He wasn't really lying, but by now a few others had dared to reach the scene. Alex and the man who had come back from Their camp. Juliet. His eyes met with hers, and he knew she had an answer in mind for Sayid. She remained silent, only glancing at the bruises on his arm and at the mark from where the needle struck him.

"Someone get some rope," Sayid ordered, "make sure he doesn't have anything on him."

Jack took the liberty to do so. The doctor was dressed in the color to match the occasion, black from what it looked like, though his formal clothing style surprised him: dress pants and an equally nice shirt, only missing a tie and dress shoes. His torn dark green tennis shoes clashed horribly with his outfit, but Jack had the feeling that taking trips across the island wasn't on the doctor's everyday to-do list.

"Nothing," Jack said as Sayid fell to the ground beside the doctor, quickly tying his wrist.

And then he heard the question he hadn't thought they would ask, whispered fearfully behind his back, as though he would actually be at fault here.

"Where did Jack get the gun?"

He hoped Sayid wouldn't noticed, hoped the question would simply be discussed quietly, never really brought to surface. Sayid obviously didn't notice- or he was planning to torment Jack with his silence until he felt ready to ask. He picked Dr. Campbell up from the ground and began leading him towards the edge of the jungle. Jack followed, meeting eyes briefly with Kate.

She'd heard the question. She knew he was hiding something. Juliet stood nearby her, just as aware that he wasn't fully telling the truth. Eyes drifting away, his secrets remained hidden as he continued to follow Sayid.

They walked until they were out of sight from the other castaways; he instantly had a flashback of the first few weeks after the crash and torturing Sawyer over Shannon's asthma inhalers. Sawyer never had them, and now Shannon was dead anyway. He wondered if he was about to make the same mistake. Careful to mind the darkness and not stray too far from the moonlight they stopped only a few feet from the beach. Dr. Campbell's swollen eyes trailed to Jack, amusement dancing behind his half-conscious state. Jack remained silent.

"Who are you?" Sayid demanded, the trigger of the gun safely wrapped inside his fingertips.

"I'm sure Jack's already told you all about me," the doctor reply, coughing roughly.

"I want you to tell me who you are," Sayid said, his voice echoing violently against the night, "what you're doing here...who your people are and what they want from us."

"That's asking a lot, isn't it?" Dr. Campbell replied with a weary smirk.

"You've done a lot," Sayid said. Jack looked away as he began naming off a list of accusations, arousing memories he was sure he and Sayid both would have rather left forgotten. "Starting with day one. You attacked the tail section of the plane, taking all but five of them. You attacked Claire and her child. You-"

"I didn't do any of that," Dr. Campbell proclaimed, slurring his words. He licked drying blood away from his lips. "And if you'd be so kind, let me remind you of all your people have done."

Jack couldn't help but to laugh; Sayid glanced towards him, surprised as cold laughter escaped him.

"I can't wait to hear this one," Jack said.

The doctor's eyes turned stiffly towards him, an amused grin trying to break out of the pain that restricted him from mocking Jack's laughing.

"You should know," the doctor's accusing words and his dark amusement washed away the grin on Jack's face; he became aware of Sayid watching him, keeping an eye on him as though maybe it would turn out that he was the criminal. "I know you like believing in the greater good but come on...using that as an excuse to sin? How can you call yourself a doctor?"

"Shut up." He stepped towards Dr. Campbell, ready at any moment to fight. "You, saying these words? You're a hypocrite. Don't think I don't know what you've done."

"And what have I done?" The doctor's eyes waited for his reply, a challenge he knew Jack would not answer to.

And Jack had to stay silent. He couldn't admit to everything here just to fulfill the doctor's amusement, and he wasn't going to recall his past here in front of Sayid without real explanations.

"That's beside the point," he said, "you never answered his question."

The doctor gazed up at Jack with a hard glare, and he knew before the lie came he was guessing his chances of hiding the truth from him.

"I don't know anything about what they're doing," the doctor replied cooly, with honesty that would have been convincing were Jack not immediately bursting with anger, there to yell and fight back when the others knew no evidence that he wasn't telling the truth.

"You're lying!" Jack shouted, his voice echoing dangerously across the night. He could feel the silence stir, the night being fully awoken as the eyes of darkness fell narrowly upon them. "You know everything!"

Dr. Campbell's eyes drew into a deathly silence. All Jack had to do was tell everyone what happened. He could do that and prove the doctor's guilt, make everyone believe him without having to deal with the lies.

"He experimented on me!" Jack said, storming towards Sayid and Kate, holding out his left arm. The dots, bruises, and cuts that were still healing shone in the glow of the moon. Kate's eyes looked horrified as he reinforced the information she already knew, his anger keeping both of them in silence. "On all of us! They drugged us and did God knows what else. We had no idea what was going on, no idea of what was happening to us. He doesn't deserve the benefit of doubt. This man was there the entire time, by their side, watching and nodding along and agreeing with everything they were doing, letting it all happen!"

His eyes, bursting in an explosion of fury, were fixed on Dr. Campbell, holding the man's glare as the past came to surface. Throat curling up in soreness from his sudden outburst, Jack simply held the gaze, waiting for someone else to speak. All his life he thought he knew what hatred was. But he had been wrong. Hatred wasn't being disappointed in his father for all the failures he brought to Jack's life, or his wife that left him because she felt nothing for him, or even his mother who had wondered in and out of his life like a stray cat. That pain had been emotional, the hatred was something he learned to comprehend- there were at least a few moments in his life when he was able to comprehend it all. But this, this was beyond that. There was no guilt, no trace of sympathy available to even momentarily appear in Dr. Campbell's eyes. His people thought they were so right, that they were doing so much good for the world. They had wrecked his life, even more than before, topping it all off, leaving him here in the middle the road, wondering how far the empty street stretched ahead. Unsure of what had happened to him, of the effect it had on him. Completely changing his life. There was no remorse from Them, not a single moment of doubt. And it was these people, this group of people that were actually allowed to live on this earth, that happened to fall into the unfortunate spot of being at the end of the line, at the end of the long line of people he had come to distrust and despise in his life. It was the Others who took away any chance of gaining any kind of normalcy in his life. It was the Others who were keeping him on this island, where he could never find a way to move forward. It was the Others who had caused him and the people around him an unimaginable amount of pain, who willingly introduced children to Hell before they had even passed away. All without a single moment's of hesitation, a single look of sympathy. All with a knowing smile of satisfaction and relief. Greed and determination.

And now he was faced with a choice. A choice that fit perfectly into the pattern of cruelty and unfairness this world gave him. He could walk away, let all his anger mean nothing. Let them win as he wouldn't fight back, satisfied with never knowing the truth. Or he could fight back. Do whatever he could to get the truth. And end up just like Them.

Suddenly he was kneeling, bending over, his feet planted firmly into the ground. In the next moment his fist landed on the doctor's jaw and then again. He would never be like Them. He didn't even want the truth. He just wanted to know _why_.

A hand fell lightly on his shoulder, and he knew that Kate secretly would have rather him beat their prisoner to his death. She pulled him back slightly, eyes to the ground as she hid what she was really feeling, or maybe to avoid seeing the vengeance, the rush of fury and hatred flowing within him, highlighting his eyes with a severe color of red, red as bright as the blood that trickled across his bruised knuckles. He wiped the blood onto his jeans and stared at the doctor, taking in the damage.

A mouthful of blood and a fallen tooth was spit onto the ground at Jack's feet. Dr. Campbell stared at him, his eyes piercing through the eyeliner the color of rage that outlined Jack's eyes. He was surprised to feel nothing at this. No guilt, none at all. It was his moment of revenge, revenge he deserved to get. And that was what scared him. That he could feel nothing, that no matter how deeply he searched he couldn't find a single trace of guilt that would have made him that much better than them. He could only tell himself that he was right, that the Others didn't deserve the slightest glance of sympathy.

"I'm staying here," he declared, spinning around and facing Sayid- he swore he saw hints of disappointment in the hardened shock on his face, "I'm staying here, and we're going to talk to him, and we're going to find out the truth-" he turned, his eyes falling fiercely on Dr. Campbell, "the whole truth."

Behind the blood appeared a smirk, and Dr. Campbell's eyes danced with joy.

"And nothing but the truth," Dr. Campbell replied with the same unharmed, calm and collected wit as before that sent Jack's fist flying through the air again, only to be stopped by Sayid.

His eyes turned towards him slowly, only silently bothering to ask why.

"Let's wait until we find out the truth," Sayid explained.

Lowering his fist, Jack nodded. His chest heaved heavily, drawing raspy breaths as he caught his first moment of relief from anger, allowing that moment to pull himself away.

"Can we talk?" Sayid said, nodding towards Kate and Jack.

They followed him a few paces away, their eyes glued to the prisoner's bound hands. A sharp, dense pain danced across his knuckles, and Jack held his injured hand in his other one, trying to focus on keeping his mind off the attack as he listened to Sayid.

"You said he injected you, yes?" Sayid inquired. Jack nodded. "Then perhaps you should take a break. Rest. And whatever symptoms you feel, no matter how small, you need to report to us immediately."

He shook his head, already seeing the glee in Dr. Campbell's eyes upon hearing that what he did to Jack would prevent him from being there to hear the truth, what Jack wanted the most.

"He's right," Kate said with sympathy, "we don't know what he did to you. If something happens-"

"Nothing will happen-"

"Jack."

The fierce protest, her demanding eyes that insisted for his attention to be drawn towards her, sent him into silence.

"Not to mention the kids," she added, "they're probably terrified."

He found himself nodding in agreement, though lingering anger begged for him to stay. Sayid, on equal level of Kate's sympathy, looked at him and promised:

"You can still talk to him in the morning, but we need a plan," suddenly Sayid's eyes sharpened darkly, and Jack understood, "we don't need to make any mistakes."

"Come on," Kate said, taking his arm carefully as though not wanting to give him another moment to reconsider, "let's go."

He looked up to Sayid.

"I'll check on the kids," he said, "but I'm going to be here. I want to know the truth."

Sayid gazed at him, and it was as though sympathy was all he was able to feel towards Jack. Like it was the only answer anyone had, that he was this fragile piece of life who had been thrown against the walls of Hell so many times all he had left was for people to feel sorry for him. Jack looked away and followed Kate back to camp. In his mind he heard Dr. Campbell's words play over and over again: _and nothing but the truth_. This time, Jack decided, the joke would be on him.

**Author's Notes:** Thanks for the reviews! Happy holidays to everyone!

Until next time...

October Sky


	24. The Effect

Life Interrupted

Chapter Twenty-Four

**Chapter Twenty-Four:** The Effect

Moonlight peered down on them through the slick black night. Silence wrapped around him as he refused to give into Kate's disapproval.

"I'll check on the kids," he said as they reached his tent.

She nodded, looking away.

Two small forms huddled in the corner of the tent that had been left in darkness. When moonlight was locked out by the closing of the tent Jack had to use the rapid, scared, breaths of the kids to guide him.

"Hey, it's okay," he said. Emma's arm found his hand as he turned on a flashlight.

"They're back," Emma whispered.

She was crying. Zach was stiff, white, and trembling.

"It's okay," Jack said again, "Sayid's got it. I've got to go help him."

"What are you doing?" Emma said, eyes full of wonder. Innocent compared to the crime she was inquiring about.

He looked down, knowing the first taste of guilt had reached him.

"We're going to find out what's going on," he said, "but everything will be okay."

"Stay here!" She pulled on his hand more tightly, her tone rising with a screech of fear. "Please."

"I'm sorry," he bit his lip, pushing away guilt, "but I'm the only one who knows them. I've got to help." He raised hand, placing it gently on Emma's shoulder. "Everything will be okay. Just go back to sleep."

As her hand slipped from his he felt the rip of a cut from her skin brush against his fingers. He would only be able to hold back guilt for so long. A small whimper of tears left Emma as he stepped back under the moonlight, exhaling a long breath of the guilt that was consuming him.

"You should stay," Kate whispered, "they need you."

Shaking his head, his eyes found the spot in the distance where Sayid was waiting to interrogate the doctor. Once he was there, he decided, everything would be better. Walking away was like leaving a room of stiff heat, being freed of the tension locking him inside.

"Jack!"

He ignored Kate's call. Deep down he even blamed her for making everything worse.

Then his vision switched to fog: the first symptom. Weight three times his size was suddenly added to his muscles; he felt himself stumbling, heard Kate's cries for help grow distance. The world was being engulf by a fog only he could see, could feel.

"That didn't take long," he managed to announce.

"What?" Kate demanded; her arm was on his should as he fell to the ground, the fog growing thicker around him until all he knew was darkness.

----

She heard the others running to them before she could warn them of what was happening.

"Did he say anything?" Locke inquired as he fell to his knees beside her, placing two fingers on Jack's neck.

Her eyes stayed pinned to Jack's unconscious body on the ground. Just a moment ago he had said something: he knew exactly what was happening.

"I'd think he's too young for a stroke..."

Spinning around, Kate face the group forming around them.

"This isn't a stroke!" Kate exclaimed, bringing Locke's theory to silence as the others stared back at her, struck at her sudden explosive tone. "This is them!"

She took a few steps to where Sayid and the man from the Other's camp were, pointing a hand in their direction.

"He did this to him!" She cried. "It's whatever they gave him!"

Juliet slipped into the crowd behind her, but Kate caught the movement from the corner of her eye. She watched as Jack's friend's eyes fell to his unconscious body, hovering their in recognition.

"Get out of my way!" Kate's eyes leapt away at the sudden voice: the girl who came from the Other's camp, Alex, had fallen to her knees beside Jack.

The teenager shook her head frantically.

"No...no..."

"What?" Kate demanded, taking a defiant step forward. "What do you know?"

She was ignored. Alex turned away from the crowd with a swift turn towards the jungle; Kate swear she saw the girl's shoulders tremble.

"Alex!" It was the man who came back with the girl. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

Kate took another step forward as the man- Michael, she remembered- grabbed the teenager's arm, spinning her back around to face him.

"I've got to go back!" Alex exclaimed. "I know exactly what he needs to help him."

"Are you sure you really want to be back there?" Michael said. "With them just getting over the murder and all? With their doctor and four of their captives on this side of the island? You really don't think they won't make you stay?"

"A deal's a deal."

Alex's eyes flashed with confidence, and Kate saw even more clearly how upset she was, how desperate she was to help. She tried to understand the past between them, between her and Jack, but she couldn't comprehend the guilt that swarmed Alex's eyes, and saw only the familiar terror of a grieving child shaken by her past.

"I'm going," Alex declared, "do you want to help?"

For a moment Kate thought he would agree. She even hoped he would. If Alex was telling the truth, if they could help, they needed to go now. Not leave the rest to find out the meaning of the cliffhanger to another time. And impatience was winning.

"Is it true?" Kate inquired; she hated the desperation seeping through her voice. "Can you help him?"

"Yes," Alex said, her eyes never leaving her friend, "you coming?"

Hand sitting on the teenager's shoulder their eyes connecting, the man making sure he had her attention.

"It's not going to be that easy, Alex."

"It will if you help."

"Can't he get them himself?" Michael shot back, making his impatience apparent to everyone.

"He's kind of unconscious," Charlie pointed out.

Kate realized her hands had been shaking and curled her fingers into fist. They were wasting too much time; what did that man even care about saving Jack?

"She's not going."

Eyes turned towards Danielle now, and Kate sighed. This was becoming too dramatic.

"Look, I don't care who goes," Kate spoke up, "but he needs help. I'll go-"

"No!" Alex's sudden protest startled her; she fell silent, letting the girl's pleading voice scratch against the still night's air. "I'm going!" She turned to her friend. "I owe it to him to do this! And who are you to stop me?"

She whipped her head around so that she was facing her estranged mother, staring at her with fury. Eyebrows furrowed, Alex stepped towards Danielle, her solid footsteps demanding attention. She shook her head, disturbed but sincere.

"I'm sorry, but I don't even know you." Alex turned back to her friend, "are you coming or not?"

Her friend stepped back, his shoulders dropping forward in an exhausted defeat. He sighed.

"Yeah," he replied, looking at the ground. Suddenly his eyes swept forward, meeting Alex, signaling a further discussion later. "Let's go."

Nodding, Alex walked into the shadows of the jungle, shrinking into the darkness and away from the lingering stares of the castaways. They watched as the two left, caught in a trance of the quick paced drama suddenly taking ahold of them. Danielle's eyes found hers unexpectingly, but Kate realized as she met the wet, sorrowful eyes of the teenager's mother that she had been waiting for this moment, waiting to blame her for putting her daughter in danger.

Kate simply shook her head, feeling drained from the fight she had hardly been apart of. Dropping to her knees she fell beside Jack, placing a hand opposite of the one the needle had been forced into.

----

"What the hell was that about?"

She tried to ignore him and concentrated instead on finding her way through the thick black air around them. As a child Alex remembered feeling intimidated by the darkness, thinking a whole other world existed out there. Judging by the way her father had always scolded her desire to venture into the world beyond the barracks that world was dangerous and filled with creatures who would love nothing more than to poison the life of such an innocent little girl. Never would she have imagined those creatures would be so helpless, so innocent, and that it was _her _people her father was warning her about.

"Alex!"

A cry of frustration destroyed her concentration; tears punctured her eyes.

"Could you at least wait until we're out of earshot of their camp?" She snapped, fighting the urge to turn around and yell at him, face to face.

"It's funny," Michael continued, ignoring her. On either side of her her hands trapped her frustration in fist. "When you said you were the only one who knew what the drug was, you didn't say you knew because you were the one who gave it to him."

"I just did whatever they said to, okay?"

Alex closed her eyes, hoping to be able to hide the guilt that would spill the secrets she had sacrificed so much to hide.

"Right," Michael said; suddenly he was by her side, moving to walk in front of her. His eyes fell on her sharply as he passed. "I'm sure he'll understand."

She wished he had stayed behind her. Then she wouldn't have to worry that he would turn around and discovered the guilt rushing to the surface, shaking with the pressure she'd put on herself to keep the secrets, to be able to live with all she'd done.

----

Her eyes swept the area around them, glued to the land behind the barracks. For so long as a child had she yearned to be behind this fence. She wished she could go back in time and save the disappointment and guilt.

"You okay?"

It was the first sign of honest concern she'd heard in Michael's voice. Every adult she'd ever had to listened to insisted the loud voices and anger were all part of concerned, but even as she was climbing closer to adulthood herself she still begged to differ. Her eyes continued to search for signs that they had been caught as Michael sat his hand over the security panel on the sonar fence.

"You're quiet," he commented when she didn't answer.

There was a silent flick of an invisible switch and the fence's power died. Alex followed closely as Michael ran through. A childlike instinct suddenly hit her as she remained close to Michael, walking in his shadows and uselessly hoping for his protection. If the Others caught them, neither of them would be able to prevent the consequences. She swallowed nervously, shifting closer to the darkness traveling in front of her as she thought of the risk Michael was taking for her.

"I just owe it to him to help him," she said as she neared him.

"You said that," Michael replied, "but, I mean, there's a lot history between you two...or at least he knows you're part in all of this."

"He doesn't know anything," Alex retorted sharply, partly in the fear pushing her at the thought of being blamed for her people's actions.

Michael shrugged. She envied how easy this was for him. He could digest guilt so easily, if he consumed any at all. She could say all she wanted to that she was simply following orders, but only he could say the same statement and mean it.

----

Feet scraping angrily against the sand Kate stormed towards Sayid; he turned to her as her shadow fell over him and their captive.

"Kate-"

"What did you do?" She screamed. "What did you do towards him?"

"Kate-" Sayid tried again, taking a step closer to her.

"Whatever it was that he put in Jack," she spat, "it's begun working. He's unconscious! He just shut down! What did you do to him?"

Turning again to the doctor, she grabbed his shoulders, shoving him further against the tree he was tied to.

"I couldn't just let him walk around so carelessly, could I?" He said, grinning with a new round of satisfaction. "After all, he is an experiment."

"What kind of experiment?" Kate demanded with a sudden wave of curiosity.

That grin again, the one that her stomach was beginning to recognize as a reason to feel sick, nauseated, to want to run away and hide from the truth. The grin lit the doctor's face with cruel pride of his profession that Kate had never seen in Jack, and the response that came slick with triumph pushed puddles of sympathy into the pit of her stomach, strengthening the sick feeling.

"Why don't you ask him?" The doctor smirked, closing his eyes, basking in pride.

Her glare hardening with disgust, Kate turned to Sayid, even more sickened by the lack of effect the doctor's situation had on him. He was satisfied by what he had done; nothing would change that.

"I'm going to go check on him," she said quietly to Sayid.

As she turned she felt her skin grow pale, felt her muscles limp behind heavily at the feeling of needing to throw up. She swallowed, heading towards the man collapsed on the ground beside Jack's tent, where Juliet sat now, gazing down at him helplessly.

"How is he?" Kate asked as she sat opposite Juliet, wrapping her arms around her chest to hide the sudden weakness absorbing her.

A weary shrug of the shoulders answered her. The pale surface of Juliet's face floated in light from a fire she'd lit nearby, but highlighted by the flames was overwhelming fear. Not even for Jack's health, she thought, but fear of being alone. Fear of losing someone who had been with her for so long, who she had spent so much time worrying over and vice versa; an absolute dread of losing that friendship.

But even so she had to ask. She had to know what Juliet was hiding.

"Do you know what he gave him?"

Her innocent, encouraging tone was met with a flash of rage so violent Kate felt herself sliding backwards, away from the two who she had thought to have been hiding more secrets than she knew to ask about.

"No." The cold reply suddenly fell from steady to trembling. Tears appeared in her eyes with hatred that erased all the progress of trust she and Juliet had made. "No! I don't know! I don't what they did! I don't know what it means! I don't know..."

She was choking on tears before Kate could say anything to prevent the emotional breakdown. Juliet ripped her eyes away, turning and gazing at Jack before falling forward, her elbows keeping her from hitting the sand as she cried into her her arms.

Kate watched, transfixed, wondering how this person she didn't even know appeared to be more torn up about this than she was.

"It's the not knowing," Juliet said, looking up. Her face was trashed with tears. "Not knowing what they're doing to us, what they put in us."

"Did they experiment on you too?" Kate asked, softening her voice and hiding the eagerness of her curiosity.

Juliet nodded and then shook her head. She rested her head against an arm, closing her eyes tightly. Tears seeped through her closed eyelids; she watched as Juliet's pursed her lips tightly, trembling.

"Not to much success, I think," she said. She swallowed, hiding her face with her hand so that her voice was low and muffled. "They cared a lot more about Jack. We didn't know why. We never really understood. And he would act like it was nothing. He would just sit there, maybe even talk a little about you guys or his past. But that was how I knew that something was wrong."

Juliet let her hand fall to her side, sliding through the air until reaching Jack's arm. There she gathered his fingers in her hand, holding his hand tightly as her choked sobs broke the night's air apart. Kate stared at the ground until she realized that she didn't belong there anymore.

"I'm going to go check on Sawyer," she announced quietly, getting to her feet.

Another weary nod. Juliet glanced towards her momentarily, possibly thanking her for listening. Maybe interested in why. But she never asked. Kate was able to walk away silently, grateful when the sound of Juliet's crying was replaced by the calm silence waiting for her at her tent. She slipped inside, sighing, but the pressure continued to try and pull her away. She could feel it clinging to her, forcing her back outside even as she settled into the reassuring darkness of their tent.

"About time."

Her eyes darted forward, caught in surprise. She couldn't see him and she was glad. She could feel his angry stares, his impatient breath clogging the peacefulness she had been looking forward to finding here.

"Mind telling me what the hell's going on?" Sawyer snapped. "Or am I going to have to find out from the daily newspaper tomorrow?"

Kate remained silent as she leaned slightly against one of the walls of the tent, crossing her arms in front of her.

"One of them is here."

"Oh, thanks for the memo."

"He attacked Jack." Her eyes flashed towards where Sawyer's voice had come from and she knew by his silence that he understood what was going on. "He injected him with something, and about ten minutes later Jack's on the ground, unconscious."

"What did he inject him with?" Sawyer inquired.

She shook her head to ignore the urge to laugh at the lightness of his tone, how he expected the answer to come so easily.

"If I knew then Sayid wouldn't have the guy tied to the tree right now, interrogating him," she replied.

"Poor guy," Sawyer muttered, "who is he?"

"Jack said he's their doctor."

"Jack knows him?"

Kate answered with silence.

_They cared a lot more about Jack. We didn't know why. We never really understood._

She closed her eyes as tears suddenly swam to the surface.

_And he would act like it was nothing. He would just sit there, maybe even talk a little about you guys or his past. But that was how I knew that something was wrong._

She found herself at that night on the beach, when Jack confessed to all that he remembered. There was so much secrecy left behind. The confession left him shaken, accomplishing nothing in relieving him of his past.

_ "They used some kind of drug on me, or maybe it was different kinds. They asked me a lot of questions, about my past, about my health and family history. They never told me what was going on."_

_"I wanted to be sick, sort of. I faked being sick because I did want to have to do any test, or anything like that. That was right before I got really sick. It's almost like...I made myself sick."_

_"Nothing makes sense anymore."_

A tear dropped beneath her closed eyelid, and Kate was even more grateful for the darkness. A new memory came, from so long ago...

_"My father died in Sydney."_

It was that same tone of voice. That same hoarse, defeated confession. She realized that laughter had always been out of place.

_And he would act like it was nothing. He would just sit there, maybe even talk a little about you guys or his past. But that was how I knew that something was wrong._

Laughter was an offer of peace, a need to break away from the reality haunting him. It was a place to hide from the future awaiting him.

----

"He keeps them here, really?" Michael said with an amused laugh.

Alex ignored him, concentrating on keeping her steps around the house as silent as possible.

"What, does he have a bunch of these drugs stashed away in his medicine cabinet?" Michael went on as she followed the sides of the house with her hands, stepping carefully through the darkness.

"He keeps extras here in case something happens over at the other island," Alex whispered in hopes of Michael being quiet.

At last her hand found the doorknob. She was standing on a patio, equipped with a cushioned swingset sitting beneath the stars. The blinds were drawn; the door was locked.

"Okay," she whispered, motioning for Michael to come over.

He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as he stepped beside her. He placed his hand on the doorknob and soon they were standing before a small kitchen. Smiling, Michael held the blinds back for Alex to walk in.

"Your majesty," he said with a smirk.

She wished she had a weapon. Something to distract one of them with were they to be caught. But Alex tried to remain optimistic, tried to convince herself that they would still care that she was supposedly his daughter. Even if that person, their leader, was dead.

She found the bathroom quickly; the layout of all the houses was horribly similar. She was even disappointed when she was able to open the cabinet door above the sink without Michael's help. Her hands felt alongside the black shadows hiding the corners until her fingertips wrapped around a case.

----

Soft pink and yellow sunlight welcomed her into the warm morning as Kate stepped onto the beach. Night had turned into day so quickly that it caught in her throat, sending her rushing into the morning for fear that she had waited to long to return to Jack and Juliet. But they were still sitting there, the same as she left them, the world revolving around them in silent shades of color.

"Any change?" She asked.

Juliet shook her head. The tears had dried beneath her eyes, chipping away the skin there to a dry shade of pale. Her fingers traced the sand, tanned brown from hours of absent-mindedly losing herself to this activity. Kate sat down opposite of her, feeling her chest tighten as she looked at Jack's still body. He really hadn't moved since the night before.

"I never asked," she began quietly, "what did you do, before the island? How did you crash here?'

Her eyes remained in some world beyond the present, trapped somewhere between the past she left behind and her history on the island.

"I was a librarian," Juliet admitted with a small smile, "it's an interesting job, good for dates with professors."

"Or doctors," Kate retorted with a smile.

Juliet shook her head.

"No, not really," she said. There was a soft glow on her face, allowing the sun, the world around her, to finally enter the realm she had trapped herself in throughout the night.

"Here!" A voice cried. They turned to see Alex running towards them, almost leaping forward with every step. Her friend, Michael, hurried to keep up with her, looking far more tired and worn by the journey than the teenager. "Here!"

Alex stumbled to the ground by Jack's side, taking out a briefcase she had been carrying. She shoved the briefcase towards Michael, who opened the case without fail.

"What is it?" Kate inquired.

She realized this was the beginning of trusting these two. Was it right to let them inject him with this, when she had no idea of what they were doing- and they knew this?

Inside the case were a dozen rows, and what looked like multiple levels, of small circular containers. Clear liquid was stored inside, only an inch in depth and width. Numbers and code foreign to her were stretched across the sides, and Dharma local was embedded on the gray lid.

"Move!" Alex exclaimed as Kate tried to reach for one of the bottles.

Alex took out a syringe, filled it with the vile brown liquid. She reached for Jack's left arm. The needle pierced the skin and Juliet winced, biting her lip with pain. Kate glanced towards her and then down at Jack, heart racing, mind reeling with regret. Whatever they just gave him wouldn't help him. Nothing even happened. Alex sat back, sighing in relief, satisfied. Because she was still working for them. The mistake Kate just made...how could she have sat there the entire night, waiting for their help?

"It might take awhile," Alex said, "the dose he was given...I don't know what Dr. Campbell was thinking."

"Dr. Campbell?" Kate asked, glancing towards the jungle in the distance, where Sayid still remained near their captive.

"That's his name," Alex explained, "but the drug, it pretty much shut him down...his senses, emotions, the power of the brain is taken away. But it shouldn't be that strong. It shouldn't really do that much. Not unless you're stupid and you give him as much as the doctor did."

"Yeah, well he did," Kate said, "so what did you give him?"

"The reverse effect," Alex replied, "slowly he'll regain strength."

Kate's eyes were glued to Jack's left arm, where a new red dot, thick as a bruise, stood amongst dozens and dozens of similar faded dots. She closed her eyes.

"This is what you've been doing to him," she realized.

"No," Alex sounded caught in fear, but Kate hadn't missed the effortless way that Alex was able to prepare the drug, how she knew exactly what it would do, "not all the time."

A laugh escaped her; her eyes opened.

"I don't think it matters how often," she shot, "you-"

"Kate!"

It was the excitement in Juliet's voice that caught her attention, and she turned to her, offended by her interruption. Juliet's eyes were glistening with tears of relief; she was staring towards the sand. Kate followed her eyes to see Jack, wearily waking up. Eyes lifting heavily, closing at the sunlight. His fingers curled with forced strength. A groan lifted from a hoarse throat.

"That's...weird."

She ignored Alex's breath of disbelief beside her; a smile had already formed her face, waiting to greet Jack as he lifted his eyes again.

"It's morning?" He whispered, and Juliet laughed.

With a small groan Jack lifted himself off the ground; Kate and Juliet rushed to help.

"No!" Alex exclaimed.

Kate's eyes darted to Alex's hand, wrapped around her arm. With her other arm Alex was pushing Jack back into the ground.

"You have to stay still," Alex instructed, "the effects-"

"I feel fine," Jack said, sitting up again. He paused, holding a hand to his head. Kate studied him carefully, willing to take Alex's advice and searched for the slightest sign of pain, weakness. But his eyes were clear. He blinked with surprise. "I'm fine."

She caught Juliet's gaze watching Jack, bewildered. She didn't understand, Kate realized, this should have turned out differently. When she shifted her gaze back to Jack she saw that he had gotten to his feet, brushing off the sand covering him. He turned towards where Sayid and the doctor still remained.

"Jack-" Kate warned, following him.

He shoved away the arm that reached out to stop him. Shadows covered him as the group stayed close by, dancing in the panic thoughts that something else might come out of the effects of the drug.

"I'm talking to him," Jack said, "I can't just sit around and wait for answers. This is my chance."

Sayid's narrow gaze fell on them as the shadows reached the spot up the beach, out of the view of the rest of the camp. The Other smiled.

"Nice to see that you're up," the doctor commented, "how do you feel? Any side effects? Any-"

"Shut up." Kate's heart leapt to her throat, startled by the sudden seriousness in Jack's movements, the cold edge of his voice. "Why are you here? Who sent you?"

The smile grew, tilting away from the corners of the doctor's mouth. Jack stood only inches from him, hands already curled into fist.

"The dead," the doctor replied, "it was all carefully planned out, you see. I come here, take back what's ours. Finish the work. Did you really think killing the man in charge would stop me?"

She felt an icy draft shift towards her as Jack froze. Stiff, she saw through frozen vision as eyes fell on Jack, as betrayal, even fear of betrayal, crept over Juliet's startled reaction.

"The plan continues as we agreed," the doctor went on. Now even his smile was still and an accusing, vengeful, darkness fell into his eyes. "I came to take you back. To finish his work. And now that he's gone...I'm even more motivated."

Jack shook his head, and Kate admitted in silence her surprise at how unaffected by the doctor's threat he was.

"What makes you think I would agree to that?" Jack demanded. "What makes you think that we weren't prepared this time, that it would be that easy?"

"Because," the doctor said, the haunting grin returning with glee, "I told them that if I'm not back by today to come after me."

**Author's Note:** I hope that last line makes sense as a cliffhanger and that it's clear what that means. Thanks for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	25. Anything I Want To Be

Life Interrupted

Chapter Twenty-Four

**Author's Notes: **Remember when I used to write really long chapters? I'm going to try and do that again, especially to make up from the time away from Lost fanfic. I'm so sorry about that. I agreed to write this story for this other fandom that had to be posted at a certain time, and I became a little in over my head with it and it didn't all go as smoothly as I planned. I'm sooo sorry for the wait for this! Thanks to all who have been waiting and who come back to read. I'm greatly sorry about the wait. Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter enough to forgive me...or at least think about forgiving me. If you read any of my other Lost fanfics I have the next chapters for those planned as well so hopefully I'll be able to get them written and posted soon. Again, I'm sooo terribly sorry for the wait! Thank you to those who reviewed during the time. I am back, so I hope I'll get to post more frequently.

**Chapter Twenty-Four:** Anything I want To Be

Jack took a step closer to Dr. Campbell, aware that he was suddenly breathing harder and aware of the eyes following him, wide and waiting for an explanation. Waiting to know what to do.

"You're lying," Jack accused sharply, and the doctor only smiled.

"You would know a lot about lying, wouldn't you, Jack?" Dr. Campbell grinned. "Do they know what you can do?"

"Shut up."

He stepped closer to the doctor so that he was almost standing behind him. His eyes were glued to the prisoner as to avoid the wondering gazes of the castaways standing around him, now only interested in this knew clue from the doctor. Anger only pumped faster through him, growling at the doctor's taking advantage of the situation.

"What I meant to say, Jack, is that if someone hadn't of murdered our leader in the first place you wouldn't be in this situation right now," as the doctor's eyes twinkled Jack's hand found the rim of the gun he was hiding behind him, the anger creeping towards his fingers as they tightened around the trigger, "so maybe you're the one who needs to stop and think about lying."

"I said shut up!" He shouted, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Kate flinch as the gun flew to face Dr. Campbell.

The doctor didn't even blink, and Jack wanted to know how it was that someone in his situation could be so confident, so certain of his fate. It was as if the doctor knew exactly how this would turn out, and either he knew it would turn out okay, or he had already come to terms with the future.

"When are they coming?" He demanded, taking another step closer to the doctor.

This time the doctor smirked.

"You really think you can stop them?" Dr. Campbell retorted. "You and I both know we didn't get that far in the experiments."

The least the doctor could do was stop talking in riddles, because the last thing Jack needed on top of all of this was people asking questions. The last thing he needed was proof that he was hiding his past.

"Tell me exactly when they're coming," Jack went on, "and what are they planning to do?"

Again the doctor smirked and Jack's grip on the gun tightened.

"Jack-" Sayid's low voice warned as a hand fell on his shoulder, attempting to lead him away.

Eyes still locked on the prisoner Jack followed Sayid a few steps away, his finger still attached to the trigger of the weapon.

"What?" Jack hissed.

"Whatever you're planning on doing, you're not going to do."

Their eyes met, Sayid's unthreatened by the clear eagerness and determination running through Jack towards a possible end to this fight with the Others.

"What are you planning?" Sayid inquired after a pause of silence.

"What does it matter?" Jack replied with a cold sense of humor. "I thought I wasn't going to be able to do this."

He laughed at his own joke, shifting his feet and straightening himself in hopes of appearing just as sure of himself as Sayid was. A smile barely cracked from Sayid's lips.

"Don't think of reacting without telling us," Sayid warned, "you're not the only one here who's capable of defending us. Don't make this your burden."

"I think I'm more capable than anyone here of defending us."

He realized what he was saying and stopped immediately, face going blank with anger fired only towards himself while Sayid's shifted into confusion, curiosity, and a burning victory of knowing that Jack had finally fallen victim to his own game of lies.

"Why's that?" Sayid asked innocently.

Jack looked around, stumbling over the silence to save himself from defeat. But he was trapped. And he did this to himself.

However, the reaction he was expecting was not a smile.

"I know what you can do."

Jack froze, fear suddenly speeding through him at a lightening speed that almost overwhelmed him with a sudden panic and terrifying feeling that he was in over his head. This was the end, and everything would change after this.

"But Jack, I have to say that fighting off an entire group of enemies isn't going to be as easy as making food appear out of thin air," Sayid continued with a half-smile on his face.

Jack looked away, laughing at himself again. Because this was too impossible to be true. At the same time he felt something heavy falling on his chest, seeming to rise and fall again each moment in a sickening slow-motion pace. He was breathing too hard, thinking too fast; the world's decline around him was accelerating every second.

"Did they do this to you?" Sayid asked, sounding somewhat frightened, somewhat concerned, and most of all eager to keep the conversation going.

"I wasn't like this before the island, if that's what you mean," Jack said, and shook his head. He grew somber; his eyes were still locked in the distance, taking all of this in with a new light. People knew now. What was he supposed to do about that?

"How-"

"I don't know." His eyes snapped back to Sayid in a deadly warning. "But you're not telling anybody."

"Of course-"

"No one."

Eyes narrowing darkly, Jack made sure they had eye contact before hearing Sayid's reply. But a recognition for Jack's wish, or trust, wasn't what appeared.

"Who knows?" Jack demanded. There was only a handful of times he had seen Sayid as regretful and even fewer as nervous. Now was one of those times.

"Locke."

It was possibly the very last name he wanted to hear. Besides Hurley, who had an unfortunate reputation of coincidentally being around when secrets got out, and Kate, who he wanted to talk to himself. He couldn't lie to her anymore. But if Locke knew, then Locke was doing something about it, and sooner or later that would mean that others would find out. Rather he needed Jack's help in breaking into another hatch or some intuitive advice on taking another island risk, this wouldn't stay silent.

Running his hands over his face, Jack sighed.

"Any other secrets you want to let me in on?" Jack shot.

"You're the one keeping secrets," Sayid replied coldly, "when were you planning on telling us, Jack? Because it seems now the only way for anyone to find out anything around here is to find out the truth, which is proving to be hard because some people find it more convient for themselves to completely lie about everything that happened to them and about what they know."

"Some people came back from being held captive for nine months with no memory!" He heard his voice echo around him and wondered how long it would be before others were drawn to their conversation. "How do you think I felt, coming back and having no idea what was going on? No idea that you thought I was dead and that it had been nine months since I had last been there? And how do you think I felt when I realized just what it was they did to me and that it goes against every scientific law I've ever believed in! This is insane. This isn't possible."

He looked away, knowing that it was insane and it was possible. He had proven it and Sayid had witnessed it. Silence met him, answering what he realized was a release of ever secret confession he had been holding in for the past few weeks.

"I can't do this."

He turned away, walking back towards camp.

"Jack-"

Turning momentarily as he walked, Jack waved his hand in the air, letting it hover there as he struggled with words.

"Just- don't tell."

Yet he was already counting the number of people that knew, and it was already reaching a full hand of people. And that wasn't including the doctor and anyone else working with him. Worse, all of them were gathered here, at his camp, where at any moment tension could burst. He'd seen it happen to other people, but he never thought there would be a reason for it to happen to him.

"Jack?" Juliet's voice floated up to him rather innocently as he entered his tent.

"Sayid knows."

He sat down, dropping his head into his hands, realizing then that he was avoiding Juliet's eyes. Glancing over from the corner of his eye he saw that the kids were still asleep despite the burning sun above them.

"How?" Juliet asked timidly, as though worried about his answer.

"I don't know," Jack mumbled, "I guess he saw somehow..." then it hit him; of course... "the security cameras."

He slammed his hand down into the sand; his other hand curled once more into a fist.

"Security cameras?" Juliet inquired.

"In the hatch," Jack explained, "there's another station, they have this wall of tvs that watch the other stations. A couple of them go to the Swan. I was in there..."

"What were you doing?"

This time he looked up to her, because suddenly he realized that she would understand. She was the first to know about this- even before he did. Reaching behind him, Jack pulled out the gun that had been resting behind him. Juliet flinched at the sight of it, and he made sure to point the barrel down, almost fooled himself at how harmless it looked sitting there in his hand.

"I had this last night when the doctor first tried to attack me," Jack said. Juliet only stared at him; he held his breath for a moment, not wanting to say it. Because admitting the problem made the problem real. More real than it already was. "I haven't even touched a gun since I got back."

Juliet's eyes widened, locked first on him then on the gun, and he understood the incomprehensible fear circling in her eyes. There was a terrifying line between scientific theory and scientific evidence. This was true, he was making these things happened, and that changed everything. Everything he had ever believed in, everything science had believed in. If the Others held this information that could make them very powerful, very capable. And he was their lab rat.

"I told you..." Juliet put a hand over her mouth, as though just trying to process this was making her sick, "we knew this was happening."

He guessed that he did. When Juliet presented the theory to him he would have realized what was going on, and he would have known.

"How far did the experiments go?" Jack asked, shaking slightly as it all came to him.

Because if he was powerful enough while not even realizing what was happening to him, then he was afraid to know...

"I don't know," Juliet replied quietly.

"How powerful was I?" Jack said, his mind bursting with questions now as he began completely feeling shaky, lightheaded even.

"I don't know."

This time she sounded afraid, cautious of where this was going, but he ignored her, too wrapped up because now he could finally understand what was going on. Someone had to know what happened.

"What exactly did they do?" He went on, eating his anticipation with every word and letting the energy charge through him. "I mean, I wasn't like this before. They had to do something. And I had to have known...are you sure? Are you sure I never told you anything?"

"I told you," Juliet said, suddenly sounding small. He glanced up. She even physically seemed to be shrinking as she planted herself against the wall of the tent, wrapping her arms around her knees that were drawn to her chest as he had seen her do in so many memories. "You never really talked about what happened. Any of it."

He had to bite back frustration and tell himself not to get mad at her. Convincing himself it wasn't her fault, Jack focused his concentration on trying to remember. He could simply remember.

Yet, ironically, his memories had stopped coming back to him over the past few days...

"Why don't you ask someone who knows?" She spoke up, cautiously breaking into his silence.

He looked up at her, meeting her eyes, but only for a moment.

"Jack-" she began as he stood up, hiding the gun behind him again.

"Watch the kids," he called after her, already heading up the beach.

Alex and her friend from the other side of the island had managed to drift out of view since apparently saving him from whatever it was the doctor put into him last night. She'd disappeared, never taking any credit, never offering any explanation as to how she knew what to do or what the drugs did.

"Hey," he called as he neared the camp where she and her friend were staying. They'd hidden themselves on the edge of the beach, not far from where Danielle herself was staying: he could see her small portion of the camp from here, completing the city limits that drew in those who hesitated to stay, who had every reason to run. Alex stood up first, frozen. "I never got to thank you for saving me."

Pulling a strand of hair behind her ear and speaking softly, Alex hid behind her words, as though purposefully wanting to push away the conversation.

"It was nothing."

He nodded but didn't leave, though she was obviously uncomfortable with him being there. Her friend seemed to sense this and stood, raising a hand in the air as though he could protect her from the few feet of distance he was from her.

"I was just wondering," Jack said, building up the chilly edge clinging to his words, "how did you know what to do? You seemed to know exactly what drugs you needed to counter what he put into me. You even knew where they were. How?"

She stared at him, and he could see from here that she was shaking. Somehow, part of him didn't care. It was strange, as though for that moment he wasn't himself. Nine months ago he would have felt sorry for her, would have felt immediately guilty for putting any kind of pressure on her to confess her past. But now he had watched as she stood by, letting the experiments happen. She could have done something, anything, to stop them. Yet she stood by their side. She even helped them.

"How?" He said again, taking a step towards her.

Her friend did the same. Jack glared at him and her friend stepped back, leaving Alex staring at Jack, terrified.

"Afraid to tell the truth?" He shot. "Afraid to let everyone know what really happened?" He nodded towards her friend. "Does he know?"

"You don't know anything," Alex snapped, shaking terribly and ruining the confidence she tried to build, "you don't understand-"

"Don't understand what?" He was shouting now. "Understand that you held me captive for nine months? That you sat there and did nothing?"

"You don't understand!" Alex cried, tears appearing in her eyes. She was frantically pulling at her hair, hands trembling as she failed to pull herself together. "I had no control and you have no idea-"

"Yeah, I have an idea. I know what you did to me." He took another defiant step forward, and he noticed that they seemed to be frozen, not only afraid but physically unable to fight back. This both terrified him and sent confidence roaring through him. "What I want to know is exactly what you did. How far did the experiments go?"

"I don't know!" Alex exclaimed. "I never knew-"

"You knew!" Jack shot. "I saw you, and you were there. So I want you to tell me how far did the experiments go? Did they succeed in what they wanted to do?"

Alex shook her head slowly, face paling in horror.

"You'll have to-"

"You don't think I have a right to know?"

"You'll have to look in the book!" Alex shouted, her words snapping through the air. They seemed to release the tears that began visibly falling from her eyes.

He took another step towards her and this time lowered his voice, but didn't speak any more gently.

"What book?"

"The book they kept a copy of all their notes in," Alex explained, a little more in control of her voice now that she had already cracked the air into a momentary pause from the conversation, "it's a really thick binder. They keep it hidden under the computer desk in that room. It has everything in it. Every experiment, every answer to every question they ever asked you. Everything they were ever able to find out without your help."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that they have ways of finding out things," she said, "I don't know how."

She was telling the truth this time. She had also told him enough, and suddenly he felt drained. He was more lightheaded than ever, like the world was spinning around him at a speed a thousand times faster than it should be. And yet at the same time he knew that the world was still spinning slowly, which only made him feel dizzier...

"Is there a problem?"

Jack looked up, only then aware that he had been gazing down at the ground, eyes closed. When he opened his eyes the world looked blurry for a moment. He blinked and Danielle came into view as thick black shades and green dots were pushed away from the picture as though washed away with an eraser.

Alex looked equally as surprised as he to see her mother there.

"No," he said, suddenly speaking much more weakly than before.

He walked away before Alex could catch on to what was happening. With each step he felt like he was walking through a haze, attempting to push through the atmosphere with a fourth of the energy he should've been able to use. What he didn't understand was why he never felt like this before: incidents like this had happened before, and there had never been any side effects.

"Jack!"

He turned, maybe a little too quickly, only to find Sawyer and Kate staring at him, confused.

"Are you okay?" Kate asked, standing up from where they were sitting outside their tent. "You look pale."

She tried to reach up, as though to touch his forehead, but he pushed her hand away.

"I'm fine."

How ironic, he thought the lies were supposed to stop as more people knew about his...abilities. He shuddered at the word.

"You mind filling me in?" Sawyer called, not bothering to stand up. "Kate here says that you've got their doctor tied up somewhere up the beach. She says he attacked you. That true?"

Kate rolled her eyes and flashed an amused smile at Jack.

"Yeah," he replied, "Sayid's talking to him."

"Great," Sawyer muttered, "all we need is for him to torture another one of them so they can come back and kidnap us again."

"No one's torturing anybody," Jack shot, "and they didn't kidnap us because of that."

They both looked at him, expecting him to explain. Jack hesitated, and for a moment wondered what would happen if he told them both the truth. His eyes fell on Kate.

"Can I talk to you?" He asked, lowering his voice enough to make Sawyer suspicious. He watched them carefully as they walked away, but didn't protest.

"What's wrong?" Kate asked as she followed Jack down the beach.

"Sayid knows."

He stopped and turned, expecting a similar reaction to Juliet's, which he received, except Kate looked even more startled.

"How?" She asked, and Jack sighed as he prepared to replay this conversation.

"I assume the security cameras from the hatch," he explained, "I...he just saw something. And now he knows."

"About the murder?"

Jack stared at her. He wasn't sure what to be more frightened of: the fact that Kate seemed to have brushed off his confession of being some sort of psychic like it was a joke or the fact that Sayid could have seen the murder as well as he found his secret. Or maybe there didn't have to be a competition.

"No," Jack said, a little flustered with disbelief, "about...you know, what I can do."

"What can you do?" She said, staring at him like he was truly scaring her.

He shook his head.

"Never mind."

He tried to turn away but she stopped him, reaching out for his arm. The minute her hand touched his arm it flew away. She looked at him, stunned.

"What's going on, Jack?" She asked, meeting his eyes and making sure she held his gaze.

But Jack was able to easily look away and easily found the strength to fight back.

"Nothing."

This time she didn't try to stop him. He looked down as he walked back to where Sayid was standing with Locke, talking to the doctor. Blinking, Jack convinced himself that what he had felt wasn't reality. He was just overreacting...

"Jack." He looked up and realized that Sayid had been walking towards him. "He says they're coming this afternoon, after sundown."

Jack nodded.

"Good," he said, turning back to look towards camp. He watched as the castaways went about their day, never throwing so much as a glance towards the prisoner, as though giving him so much as a glance would curse them. "That gives us enough time."

"Enough time for what?" Sayid inquired, watching him as he studied the camp.

Jack turned back to him.

"Enough time to hide," he replied, "you need to get everyone together and keep them calm."

"You're not seriously thinking of doing this alone," Sayid warned as Jack turned away.

Jack stepped back.

"And what would you do to defend yourself?" He shot. "Because my memory as of nine months ago is fine, and from what I remember every attempt to defend ourselves from them failed. So you need to get everyone and get them safe, and I can handle the rest."

"Sounds like you're leader again." He couldn't tell if the faint smile on Sayid's face was out of amusement or sarcasm.

"Guess I am."

----

The rain started as the sun was setting, pouring in from the pale grey clouds that were fading to blackness. Everyone was staying at the beach except for Jack, who lingered near the line separating the beach from the jungle, safety from the heart of it all. Behind him the castaways were being ushered into their tents, given instructions to stay calm and quiet, and told that this should go as smoothly as any other night on the beach. Except of course for the fact that the group they had been fighting off for almost a year were returning, he thought bitterly. His eyes scanned the beach and he found Locke and Sayid leading Dr. Campbell to one of the tents on the edge of the camp. If worse came to worse they agreed it was best to appear as though they really didn't have him.

Squinting through the rain, Jack noticed a figure running towards him. Damp sand was kicked up from the ground as Juliet ran up the beach to him; the water dripping down her face wasn't only from the rain. She was shivering, pale, as though something had gone terribly wrong...

"Jack!" She called desperately as she reached him. "It's the kids."

"What?" He demanded, eyes falling immediately on his tent, where Julie

t was supposed to be hiding with the kids.

By now Sayid had reached them, having noticed the commotion.

"What's wrong?" Sayid asked.

"They're missing."

She met Jack's eyes, ridden with guilt and already pleading for forgiveness. Jack remained silent, words caught in his throat. He realized he had no idea what to do.

"I'll search the jungle and the hatch," Sayid offered, placing a reassuring hand on Juliet's shoulder as he ran off in that direction.

"Sayid-"

"Search the caves!" Sayid called after him, offering no further explanation.

He looked back at Juliet.

"They wouldn't have just run off," Juliet explained, "they're terrified of them. They're probably afraid."

"They don't trust us," Jack realized.

Their eyes locked and he knew Juliet understood this as well. She placed a hand on his arm. He looked down at it, confused by what it was supposed to mean.

"Stay here," he said, forcing himself to focus on the situation.

Juliet nodded as he ran off towards the jungle.

----

He knew that this was where Emma would have taken her brother, even though Sayid was admittedly confused: why she would hide them in a place the belonged to Them he didn't know. But he did know that that meant the kids weren't safe there; it was precisely the reason why they had chosen to hide at the beach instead of any one of the Other's properties.

He didn't call her name, cautious to the possibility that the Others were already there. His gun was at his side but at a low angle; he didn't need to scare them away if he really did find the kids here. But the hatch was silently empty, left with only the remains of the few residents that had dwelled here since the incident nine months ago. The bedroom was empty; Sun and Jin had taken their baby and were hiding with Eko at the beach. The kitchen, the bathroom, the living room, all of it was empty. Carefully he placed his hand on the pantry door.

Darkness greeted him, and Sayid instinctively placed his hand on his gun. He drew in a breath, contemplating what he was about to do. He flipped on the light, refusing to waste any more time with doubt.

He sighed in relief. As the room illuminated with a radiant switch from darkness he spotted a small shoe jerk back into a hiding place behind one of the back shelves.

"Emma?" Sayid asked carefully.

There was a slight shifting of movement; clothing brushing against the creates they stored in the back. Emma appeared, looking frightened, but it was more the look of a child caught lying to their parents than a child terrified of being found.

"It's alright," he promised, "what are you doing?"

"Hiding," Emma replied, the single word breaking away from her trembling lips.

"We're hiding at the beach," Sayid pointed out.

"They'll look at the beach."

Her voice was so small and fragile that a sympthatetic smile began to rise on his face, grinning back sadly at her.

"Don't worry," he assured her, "we'll stop them before they ever get there."

Emma's expression didn't change; she only stared at him, looking as though his words meant nothing, as though he should be saying more. His eyes shifted to the side to avoid her gaze as he thought. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed his watch tick past seven. The beach would have been eclipsed by darkness by now, the signal of the Other's arrival. It would be suicidal to take the kids out there now.

"Would you feel safe if I stayed here with you?" Sayid asked her.

She nodded, eyes wide and pleading. Sayid offered her a half-smile, but really he would never understand how she could trust him so much. She didn't know him, and yet she had begun clinging to him like he had a shield around him warding off danger. As he led her back to her hiding place, Sayid only hoped that trust wouldn't be lost tonight, because one experience too many told him her theory was simply the work of a child's mind. There was no truth behind it.

----

Kate pulled back the flap of their tent ever so slightly, curious as to how the camp could be so silent; certain that that meant something was wrong. But she was greeted by an almost vacant beach. The only survivor that remained outside was Juliet, staring into the jungle, radiating worry and concern as she wrapped an arm around her stomach and held the other to her chin. Kate made to stand up.

"Where are you going?" Sawyer demanded hoarsely behind her.

"Juliet," was all Kate offered before she slipped out of the tent.

She heard Sawyer groan in frustration behind her but ignored him as she made careful note of the gun resting at her side and the darkness she was walking into. If the doctor's words were true, the Others would be coming at anytime.

"What are you doing out here?" Kate inquired as she reached Juliet. She lowered her voice so that others wouldn't come out from curiosity.

"The kids are missing," Juliet replied, trembling, not looking at her, "Jack and Sayid went out to look for them."

"How long ago?" Kate asked, feeling panic rise within her. She hadn't seed Jack or Sayid in what felt like an hour, and as far as she knew Jack wasn't planning on heading into the jungle until...now.

Juliet shrugged.

"I'm going out there," Kate announced, pushing past Juliet as she ran into the jungle.

----

He hadn't seen the caves this empty since he first found them. Jack felt his chest rise and fall heavily as he remembered that day, almost a year ago. Maybe if he hadn't been so doubtful, so fearful of what was to come, if he had hope and had been optimistic, none of this would have happened. Maybe it was that initial fear that caused this chain of events, maybe one after another each trauma happened from the simple fear of it happening.

His footsteps echoed loudly as he cautiously entered, and Jack could remember the hope the hope that had risen through him that day. It had been so overwhelming: he had been practically shaking with relief, caught in a silence he didn't dare to escape from, fearing that with one mistake it would all disappear.

The back of the cave caught his eye with a loud gasp. Boone's deathbed. Where he had fought for so long, fought so hard to save him. The impact of his death had taken every ounce of who he was; after that everything changed. He felt it the instant Boone's face went cold, the instant he had to close the dead eyes of one of their own. Joanna, the Marshall, and others before him...he hadn't been there. He had failed to save them, but he hadn't been there, watching as they died.

Now they were still fighting, still running. Now he didn't even recognize who he was. He wasn't sure if anyone could. Maybe that was why they still looked at him as though he couldn't be trusted, as though they couldn't understand a single reason for the choices he made. Everytime he talked to someone, talked to Kate, it seemed as though they were talking to a complete strange. She would eye him like she didn't understand where he was coming from, stumble over her words as though she didn't quite know what to say to him. And worse, he didn't know if this would ever change. Was this how it would be? Or was there something he could do...

He spun around at the first foreign footstep he heard behind him. Gun drawn in front of him, tense in his hands, brought him eye level with Kate. He lowered his weapon, a sigh of relief escaping his ragged breaths.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded.

"Juliet said the kids were missing," Kate explained, taking a step towards him. Again it was as though she thought he wasn't the same, like he was the one they were fighting. Or maybe that was how he just came across. "You never came back."

"Yeah, well how many times have we just been able to find someone?" Jack said. "You shouldn't be out here, Kate. The Others, they-"

"So it's safer for you to be out here?" Kate shot, taking a frustrated step towards him. "When you're the one they wanted in the first place?"

Jack shook his head.

"That's not what this is about," he said, "you shouldn't have come out here. Do you have any idea what you're risking?"

"So finding you is not worth the risk?"

Her words pierced him sharply, and in his hesitant search for a reply new footsteps appeared behind them. Softly, barely audible, but the steps pounded through him as they crept closer towards Kate. His gun was drawn again before she could catch onto what was going on. The gun was already pointed at Kate's head.

"Hey, Jack," the Other remarked casually.

Jack didn't recognize him. He had short cropped hair; dark with a graying hairline clinging to the sweat on his forehead. Wearing kaki pants and what once could have been a formal shirt, the man looked like he had just walked through a wind of dust. But his raggy appearance didn't effect the effortless grip on the gun pointed at Kate. Jack's fingers tightened around the trigger; Kate's eyes tried to search for his.

"Put the gun down."

"We just want back what's ours," the Other replied.

His grip on the gun tightened once more.

"Then give me back what's ours."

Mentally he winced at the statement, catching himself how awkward the comment was for Kate.

"We just need our doctor back," the Other was half-grinning as he spoke, "imagine what your people would go through if their doctor was missing."

He felt his muscles tense and had to pull himself away from the vile words pulling at his throat. He was becoming even more consciously aware of the weapon in his hands and the thought of using it, of revenge.

"Yeah, I wonder."

It all happened too fast. Later he wouldn't be able recall which he heard first: the gunshot or the scream. Did he see the Other fly back against the wall, landing with a sharp crack of muscle or Kate fall to the ground, tears automatically pouring down her cheeks? Tears blending with blood that leaked from her shoulder at a horrific pace, seeming to speed up every snitch in time it took him to reach her side. The Other rest in unconsciousness, his gun at his side, panting steam from its latest fire. Kate's finger slipped away from the trigger of her own weapon that struggled to break free of the strain of her grip. He lowered the gun to the ground himself, eyes dancing around madly, searching for an answer. The last thing he remembered was wishing desperately for the Other to just back away, to just lower the gun...

Kate blinked, eyes closing painfully as he placed his hand over the blood soaking her skin. He tore away the fabric around the wound to reveal a hole that was spitting blood, erupting from her skin like lava. His hands shook as he pressed against the wound; he lifted his eyes in hope for help and realized that Sayid and the kids were standing there, watching him in shock.

"What happened?" Sayid asked, falling to Kate's side.

"I need to stop the bleeding..."

"Here."

Jack looked up, surprised to find that it was Emma who answered him though it was obvious; who else had a voice that small, that would vibrate with such a determination to help amongst the darkest of problems. She opened up a backpack she had brought with her- she had obviously been planning on hiding for a long time- and held out to him a t-shirt. Jack took the clothing from her with a silent word of thanks; the flower-pattern shirt wasn't her size and probably belonged to someone twice her age.

Kate twitched under his hold and he worried about hurting her. Her eyes drifted in and out of focus at the pain and suddenly he felt pressure against his own arm; he looked down. Her fingers had wrapped around his left arm.

"It'll be okay," he told her breathlessly as he pressed down harder on the wound. Sayid returned(when had he left?) with a bottle of water.

"Sawyer," Kate coughed, breath escaping her as though air was leaving her through a thin crack in the wall.

From the corner of his eye he saw Sayid watching him, sympathetic to the situation, obviously acknowledging that Sawyer would want to know. Needed to, even. But it had already grown too dark...

Jack shook his head.

"It's too late," he told her, "there's still more of them out there."

"What exactly happened?" Sayid asked again.

"I don't know."

Swallowing, Jack tried not to think about it. He concentrated instead on the rapid breaths leaving Kate, the blood that left her even faster. Soon breathing would be more difficult and the former would remain. There was a slight push against one of his hands holding the wound, like a boulder was trying to break through the wall protecting her skin. Jack momentarily lifted one of his hands to find a bullet resting on the surface, wading in the blood just below the hole in her skin. And the hole, he thought, was thinning. Disbelief shifted his expression and sent a gasp escaping from his own struggling breaths.

"You'll be okay," he said, suddenly with more confidence.

Somehow he knew things would get better. It wasn't just a statement of blind hope. He folded one of the sides of the shirt over to add more support to his attempt to stop the blood flow. But the pressure pushing back at him, the feeling of the waterfall clogging the cloth in his hands, was no longer there. Again in disbelief, uncertain about what was going on, Jack lifted the cloth.

The blood was almost completely gone. All that remained was a few light stains of smeared red liquid lingering around a now fully-closed wound.

He didn't want to see the reactions around him. Kate drew in a tight breath, her eyes shrinking as she gazed horrifically at the healed wound. This was all just beneath him, inches from him, and at least he was pulling off the fact that he had no idea what was going on. Her grip around his arm lessened, now searching only for comfort, for answers...

----

Jack refused to leave her side that night, overwhelmed with the idea that he was the only person who could protect her. The Other across from him hadn't woken up. He wasn't dead but would remain unconscious until they were back at the beach, when he could leave and catch up with the rest of his people. Emma had drifted to sleep after an admirable fight with exhaustion; her brother had fallen to sleep a while earlier. Sayid sat by them, Emma's head rested against his shoulder. He sat like that, still and eyes unmoving, focused only on Jack, throughout the night. Jack looked away, attempting to ignore the questions he knew Sayid was fighting not to ask.

"What do you think happened to the rest of his people?" Kate asked after hours of silence.

She, too, was avoiding what she really wanted to talk about.

Kate nodded towards the unconscious man at the front of the caves.

"They went back when they couldn't find the doctor," Jack replied, certain of his answer, "or us."

She shifted closer to him and he felt his heart jump a beat.

"Jack..."

Her eyes danced around frantically, as though she was trying to convince herself to say something. He watched her, encouraging her. But then her voice shrunk, and afterwards would remain silent.

"Thank you."

----

The next morning he watched as Sayid led Kate back to her tent, where Sawyer was in a heated argument with Charlie and Desmond. Kate said something and Sawyer turned, engulfing her in a hug. He watched as she winced and Sawyer backed away; it looked like Kate was subjected to an interrogation after that. But Kate would have no answers.

Jack looked away, eyes landing on the tent where he was told the doctor still remained. Locke sat outside, carving a block of wood.

"I can take it from here," he offered as he reached the tent.

Locke looked up, surprised to see him.

"I heard what happened," Locke said, not getting up or looking at him. "But it sounds like no one knows exactly what happened.

"Well it all happened fast," Jack replied truthfully. He sat down beside Locke. The last time he remembered having a conversation like this with Locke they were talking about Boone...Jack swallowed and looked down, determined to focus on why he had come here. "Really, I've got it from here. Consider him my responsibility.

A smile appeared on Locke's face. Jack had a feeling that it was a smile that was prepared to say 'I told you so' at any given time.

"Alright then," Locke said, lifting himself off the ground, "sounds like you've got it under control."

Jack nodded as Locke left and only waited another moment before slipping into the tent.

Dr. Campbell looked up as he entered. He was seated in the back of the tent; his hands had disappeared under a thick series of rope. Jack took a knife out of his pocket.

"I thought you were the one that was against torture," the doctor said, eyeing him cautiously. Jack wondered if the doctor's people knew anything of pain, anything of what they inflicted upon their prisoners.

But he wasn't there to torture him. Jack didn't answer as he bent down and raised the knife. The doctor flinched, turning away and revealing an obvious fear despite the calm and collected exterior he had been pretending to have. His eyes closed even, eyelids pinning down tightly against one another.

They opened as the first piece of rope fell to the floor. Dr. Campbell watched him, confused, fascinated. Jack remained stiff, refusing to be effected by what Dr. Campbell thought he knew about him; he was watching Jack as thought he had succeeded in turning a savior into one aware of power and fighting back.

Another piece of rope fell to the ground, then a third. The doctor's hands were free. His eyes spoke all the questions Jack needed to answer, but he already knew what he was going to say. The plan would work; all he had to do was convince himself that he was not betraying his people.

Which was exactly what he was doing...

At the cost of knowing what was going on. What was happening to him. What happened last night...it was almost enough to make him watch the doctor prepare to leave guilt-free. But not without agenda.

"You're going back to your people," Jack began. He did feel like he finally had power; like he was fighting back. But for himself, for the sake of understanding what was happening to him. "And you're bringing me that book."

**Author's Notes: **In case you're confused, the book he's talking about is the one Alex told him had everything he would need to know about the experiments and the time he spent in captivity. Thanks again for the reviews!

Until next time...

October Sky


	26. Book of Secrets

Life Interrupted

Chapter Twenty-Six

**Disclaimer:** This is one of the only parts of the story that will coincide with the show. I just couldn't help myself, I love this plot! So this part- you'll see which part- is not my own idea, it's a part of the show, which does not belong to me. So I guess I should say...

**Spoiler warning:** Spoilers for the third season!

**Chapter Twenty-Six:** Book of Secrets

Blocking out the sun with a hand, Sayid scanned the beach, catching glimpses of the normal, rather innocent looking, going-ons of the rest of the castaways. Since returning to the beach and taking Emma and Zach back to Juliet, his world felt numb, like the only occurrences in it were those of what happened that night at the caves. What happened to Kate...

His eyes landed on her and her figure, curled up with her knees drawn to her chest, as she stared towards Jack's tent, hair blowing carelessly around her in the wind. He offered her a sympathetic smile, even though she couldn't see him, as he caught a tear forming in her eye. The sleeves of a long-sleeved t-shirt covered up where the bullet had gone through the night before, as though she were ashamed of what happened. And who could blame her? She didn't understand any better than the rest of them.

Jack's tent came into view, standing quietly towards the edge of camp, asleep amongst the flourish of activities as people rushed by. And nearby, the elephant on the beach- only no one could see it- was the tent that held the prisoner, the doctor from Their camp, who was clueless as to the events of the night, had no idea that his people had been so near, hid in. It was time to bring him out.

His problem was that John wasn't on the post of duty he promised to reside in for the reminder of the morning. The spot where John had been sitting hours earlier was washed away with the tide, leaving the tent blending in with the rest of the camp. Sayid turned, not expecting to find John as easily as he did, tearing off a piece of fruit and throwing it in his mouth by the kitchen.

"John," Sayid announced as he approached the beach's kitchen.

"Hello Sayid," John replied casually, throwing the orange peel in a trash-bag.

"Who's watching the prisoner?"

Sayid lowered his voice as a castaway past by, tossing him a sidelong suspicious glare. The same look he had been getting from these people since Jack disappeared nine months ago, when he had to begin making decisions. He looked at Locke, making eye contact with him, determined to not let the camp's distrust effect him. He hadn't so far; he had even begun to ignore it.

"Jack," he cut off another piece of the fruit, "he offered to take a shift when he got back."

His eyes narrowed and John caught his confusion. Locke shrugged, leaving Sayid with the same unanswered suspicions.

Two distinct sets of footprints caught his eye as he neared the prisoner's tent: one going into the tent and one heading out. From numerous times of following Jack's trail, he recognized the first heading inside. The second had to belong to an Other; an untrained, desperate escape act from one who's follower's trails they never found, not even the day they presented their own to them in the forest before turning and leaving, all of it seeming to happen in mere seconds.

Sayid pushed the memory aside as he pulled away the flap of the tent, knowing ahead of time the reason for the silence that greeted him- and he wasn't even the one who was psychic. He knelt to the ground besides Jack's side, his normal, even draws of breath leaving him unshaken and confused.

"Jack?" He asked, placing a hand to feel for a pulse anyway.

There was a weary flutter of eyelids and a tired groan. Then, as his eyes began to open, Jack snapped up, sitting against the side of the tent. His hand immediately flew to the back of his head. Offering a look sans the sincerity of the sympathy he offered Kate earlier, Sayid decided to play along, just to cover his tracks and confirm his suspicion.

"What happened?" 

"He must've knocked me out," the exhaustion weighing heavily on his words was sincere, at least, "I came in and he somehow managed to untie himself. He stole my knife and next thing I know I'm waking up here." He looked up at Sayid, squinting as though an invisible ray of sunlight was blinding him. "How long was I out?"

"A few hours," Sayid replied, eyes narrowing.

Jack's eyes trailed to the side and Sayid realized he had found the fallen knife the prisoner attacked him with. The blunt side of the blade lay buried while the sharp side blinked in the morning light. Sayid reached down and picked up the handle.

"Missing this?" He asked, flipping the knife over and handing it to Jack.

"Yeah," Jack said, taking the knife, "thanks."

He got to his feet, stumbling a little as he straightened himself up. His fingers messaged the back of his head and Jack winced, as though there was a wound there. Yet his face contorted into horror as he brought his hand back, like he still hadn't caught on.

But Jack only closed his eyes tightly, supposedly fighting against unconsciousness.

"We have to find him," Jack announced. Sayid had a feeling he could've have actually fooled some of the castaways when he looked up, eyes radiant with anger.

This time, however, there was truth in his statement.

"Of course."

He wondered if they noticed the lack of eye contact as his mind scurried back to the tent, when he woke up from supposedly being unconscious to find Sayid staring at him. So obviously unconvinced. He was certain of it, and the man had been the very last person he wanted to discover him. The one person on the island who noticed every detail, who just the night before caught him in a series of lies.

"If he's only been gone a few hours he hasn't been gone too long-" Locke's words floated to him as a pair of eyes landed on the knife at his side, "isn't that mine?"

Jack let out an ungraceful smile and handed the knife to Locke.

"With three hundred of them one's bound to go missing."

He fought to control the relief rushing through him when Locke broke out into a laugh at this and smiled.

"We better get going," Locke said.

Sayid turned to Jack and he swore he saw a plot of revenge swirl in his eyes. Swallowing, Jack shifted his feet in the sand, and he wondered how it was that at one point in time, he had been the ones giving the orders to them.

"Actually I'll stay here," Sayid said, a hauntingly triumphant smile slipping across his face, "just to make sure things keep in order." His eyes met with Jack's, dancing with pride. "You can go with Locke."

"He did that on purpose," Jack mumbled as he sidestepped an unorganized collapse of branches.

Locke smiled, amused.

"Well maybe some good came out of that," he said, a couple of feet in front of him, "you and I haven't gotten the chance to talk much since you got back."

"Yeah we have," Jack protested, "you told me about the map and...I'm sure there was another time."

A grin flashed across Locke's face as he ran a knife across a leaf clinging to a drenched branch. Jack vaguely remembered it raining the night before; most of his memory consisted of feelings of dread and terror, of possessing unthinkable curse, like he had been the unfortunate one to stumble across the cursed treasure chest. He remembered Kate resting against the wall next to him and the silence...hating the silence as he could hear through it easily, knowing the questions they all wanted to ask him.

"I know you're still angry about what happened with Boone." 

Jack looked up; it was one of the last things he'd expected to hear but as soon as he did he knew Locke was right. Without realizing it he had been avoiding Locke, doing all he could to not stir up the past that everyone else had already put away.

"Look..." Locke stopped and turned, his eyes sinking into the past. Jack swore he saw traces of actual remorse there, of tears long ago shed...traits he had possibly been too angry, too wrapped up in finding someone else to blame, in blaming himself, to notice. He swallowed, forcing those memories aside as he tried to accept the present, something he had secretly been determined not to do. "I've changed. That was...a long time ago. And I've hated myself. Ever since, I hated myself for asking him to do what I did-" he looked up, catching Jack by surprise as their eyes met, "I shouldn't have, I should have known it wasn't safe, and I shouldn't have lied. I admit that now. I admitted it along time ago, but you weren't there to hear it-"

_"How have you been dealing with your situation?" Dr. Campbell asked him._

_They were in the doctor's office; Jack was sitting in some sort of desk chair, head in hands as though he had a headache._

_"My situation?" Jack looked up, watching as the doctor sorted pills on a plate sitting on the counter._

_"Being on the island," the doctor explained, "being away from society and all of its...advantages. Especially you, as a doctor. Any interesting experiences with that?"_

_Jack closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair._

_"There was a boy..."_

_He didn't even know why he was saying this. Through his closed eyes he could still see the doctor watching him, caught by surprised at the confession. He was listening as though he actually cared. Or maybe thinking this was something he could use to his advantage. Still the story slipped out, because honestly, he needed to tell it to someone._

_"He couldn't have been more than twenty-six," Jack went on, "he had a step sister. She died later..."_

_"What happened?" The doctor encouraged as a weightless pill knocked against the grimy palm of his hand. "It's for the headache."_

_Jack opened his eyes and looked down, expecting the white pill waiting to help him. Swallowing a dry lump in his throat Jack threw his head back, letting the tiny pill knock against the back of his throat and disappear._

_"He fell off a cliff," there were some parts of the story even he couldn't understand, and Jack closed his eyes again as Locke appeared in his mind, red with blood. "His leg was just...it was hopeless. I spent half the night giving him blood."_

_"Impressive..." _

_Jack ignored the muttering and swallowed again, now feeling a sickness that came creeping back to him, reminding him that it had been dwelling there, deep in the pit of remorse cumulating from his months on the island._

_The headache came creeping back as well. His head fell to his hands; the rest of the story pushed past and the impact made him feel like he might truly be sick..._

_"But it was just hopeless," Jack continued, weak, "we lost him in the night. Maybe early morning...I was going to cut his leg off, thinking that would stop everything. But he came to, told me not to. I don't even know if it would have helped."_

_"Probably not," the doctor replied casually, "the recovering process would have been hell."_

_Jack opened his eyes and remembered that he was still a prisoner. The doctor could have cared less about how he felt, the regret and the past he had built up in him like cancer waiting to explode, to take full force and infect him completely. Only he had held back all these months, fought off the disease like it was something that could just be stored away. The nausea taking over him was proof of just how much that didn't work._

_"Got anything for nausea?" Jack muttered, rubbing a hand over his forehead. He brought away beads of sweat._

_The doctor looked at him, eyes narrowing in concern._

_"You look fine to me."_

_He turned back to the pills..._

Jack's eyes snapped forward to meet Locke, who was waiting for him to reply.

"I said it's still open for discussion," Locke said thickly, watching him in concern. Jack wondered if he himself had just said something. "Anything. Any old guilt, regret. Anger. Hatred. Secret dreams of murdering me."

He'd been scanning the ground as Locke spoke, expecting to catch nothing out of the ordinary. Tracking had never been his strongest suit, but when he looked down just then he couldn't miss the thick binds of black-covered cardboard buried in the ground, waiting for him to unlatch the metal springs holding the papers inside.

"You better watch yourself."

Jack spun around, tearing his eyes away from the book hiding beneath the muddy debris of earth, hiding his past.

"Excuse me?"

"We can see right through you, Jack," Locke took a long swig from his water bottle and continued: "I know what you can do. Sayid told me."

"Right," Jack muttered. He was tempted to look back down- maybe it had all been a hallucination. But he couldn't let Locke know what he found, so he added: "I guess Sayid told you about last night, too."

"No, but it would be nice if you did."

He set himself up for that one. Jack froze, hesitating, feeling like a lost puppy afraid to approach the one man who could lead him to salvation. He could come clean and actually answer these questions; draw the suspicion away from him. And that's what he needed now, because he knew this wasn't over.

"Kate got shot," Jack began, and on que the ringing of a gunfire shot in his head. Looking to the ground, away from the book, he shuddered, and had to force himself to continue as he remembered what happened next: the blood, the fear, the certainty that it was all over. "I went to help her, and after only moment of trying to stop the bleeding the blood was gone. The bullet came out easily, I don't even remember taking it out, but maybe I was just going crazy." He looked up at Locke, the man who once seemed to have all the answers. "Maybe I am crazy."

He expected words of reassurance in return, a lecture and reminder about how everything happens for a reason and how this island was different- what seemed crazy here was perfectly normal in their situation. 

"I still don't understand what this has to do with letting our prisoner go."

Jack stared at him, only feeling momentarily betrayed before jumping to a panic mode he was all too familiar with. He had to rush to cover up his tracks, erase a mistake he should have seen coming long ago.

"What are you talking about?" Jack inquired, clinching his fist as he attempted to control his uneven demeanor.

"I'm talking about the very obvious conclusion that leaves me to believe that the prisoner didn't escape, you let him out," Locke explained, sharp and clearly feeling betrayed, "trust me, Jack, I know when someone's lying, and I'm guessing you're feeling confused right now. Did they put you up to this? Did he threaten you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Jack proclaimed, this time without the slightest lacking of confidence, "why would I ever do anything to help them? You have no idea what they did to me."

"Which is why I don't understand. Was it something they offered you? Something he said?"

"It wasn't me!" His voice echoed through the jungle and he hoped it was loud enough for Sayid to hear. "I hate them. I _hate_ them."

He kicked the ground with his foot as he continued to walk forward. On instinct he wanted to turn around and wait at the beach for the perfect moment to come back and pick up the book. But knowing only the second part of his statement was true, Jack continued forward through the jungle, looking for a prisoner they would not find.

The sun was going down and he was already having to use a flashlight to see. The Dharma logo stuck out like a sore against the black plastic; he turned the device over in his hand, his concentration plummeting down on the pages of the of the book in front of him. It was really the binder three or four inches thick, carrying the past nine months of his life. He stared at the black covering, only then thinking to be afraid. He was about to know every answer he had been seeking since he got back, even since he was taken captive. Part of him warned that he may not want those answers.

He decided to deal with that side of him later.

Turning the book open to the first page Jack came face to face with a picture of himself. It was a newspaper clipping, an exact copy of his work I.D. picture. Jack found the outlines of the shoulders of the suit jacket he wore on his first day of work; almost ten years at St. Sebastian. Drawing in a deep breath he prepared himself for the rest, trying not to let the first glance shake him to a corner he wouldn't be able to crawl out of. 

Beside the newspaper paper-clipped to the first page was his name, birth date, hometown, and workplace. Even if he left the island they would still be able to find him. And his family...listed below that were the names of his mother father, and...

Jack stopped. He didn't understand. He wouldn't even be able to trust the information they had on him because it just wasn't true. There was no way. This was insane. Too much of a coincidence, too impossible...

"Jack?"

The book was hidden beneath the backpack behind him before he realized it was actually gone. Looking up, he met Kate was silence, too startled to reply coherently.

"Hey," he stuttered, throwing her a rather fake looking innocent smile.

She returned the smile, obviously uncertain about the way he was acting, but invited herself to take a seat anyway. The flap of the tent closed, only momentarily giving him a view of the purple-red-blue skyline hovering above them.

"Something I can do for you?" He asked.

Shaking her head, Kate immediately grew nervous and began drawing lines in the sand with a finger.

"I just wanted to thank you again, for last night," she explained quietly, "I just...don't understand what happened."

Jack shook his head.

"Neither do I."

She looked up at them and their eyes met, locking in confusion and- hopefully, he thought- and understanding that he was being honest. He wondered if she had talked to Locke and Sayid or, for that matter, if Locke and Sayid had talked to each other about the night before. Or his obvious betrayal.

"I've felt perfectly fine all day," she said, shaking her head again and closing hers eyes; she was still convincing herself that she wasn't as crazy as he was, "no pain, nothing. Not even a headache."

"That's great."

He was still convincing himself of that, that there wasn't some kind of twist to it all. Faking unconsciousness had only been too easy, especially as he had fallen asleep only what felt like a few seconds in when the sand in front of him turned dark, blending in with the twinkling knife he left laying there.

"Yeah..." she trailed off, staring into the sand; then her eyes shot up, meeting his as she must've convinced herself to go on, "is this what you were talking about? What you can do?"

Jack looked away and thought of the past hiding behind him. He wondered if he should figure it all out, have all the answers before he started telling everyone in the world that he was insane. A lab rat who survived, who escaped. An experiment that actually worked.

But he nodded, because at the same time he wanted someone to tell him that he wasn't insane, that they understood. He supposed that was what Juliet had been there for...

"I can't believe this," a small, amused smile slipped across her face; he didn't understand what for, "this is insane."

He held his breath; not the response he had been hoping for.

"Yeah," he said, exhaling softly, "neither can I."

"So they did this to you?" Kate inquired, eyes flashing with sudden anger. "They made you be like this?"

"Yeah," he shrugged; suddenly he didn't want to talk about it. He was officially an outcast, soon their incapability to understand would drive them away, scare them. "I guess so."

A hand landed on his arm, taking him gently, sympathetically. He looked up, not sure what was happening, and she smiled softly. Then her hand slipped, brushing slightly against her skin, just enough for him to feel her fingertips as she drew away.

"Do the kids know?" She asked quietly.

"I really don't know," he admitted, "Juliet figured it out. And Sayid knows. And Locke."

Kate laughed.

"I bet you loved that."

"Yeah..."

There was a silence that seemed to go on forever, and he was caught between wanting her to leave, to end it not before she realized how much he scared her, and wanting her to stay. He wanted her there, wanted to keep things the same between them. Or better yet, go back to nine months ago, when there was still a chance.

"I'm sorry."

He caught Kate biting her lip before she choked out a sob, tears pouring out of her before she could cover her face with a hand.

"It's not your fault-"

"I'm sorry for what's happened to you," she went on. Sucking in a breath she wiped away tears; he realized that somehow she had managed to inch closer to him. "Everything you've been through...I feel like we just sat back and let it happen."

"Don't," he hated himself more than ever then; a stinging sickness hit him, filling his words with a sour feeling that rose in the back of his throat, "Kate, it wasn't your fault. It-"

Her hand was on his arm again; she was biting her lip and choking back tears. Her eyes seemed to lighten up and at the same time dim with regret, as though she were fighting between the angel and devil sitting on her shoulder, pulling her back and for between what she wanted and what she should have. He was left to watch, wondering, waiting until suddenly her lips were on his; her hand rested on his shoulder as he deepened the kiss. Uncertain of what to think, he tried not to think about taking advantage of her, accepting that this was just a change of mind when he knew it was something deeper, a side of their relationship that they really shouldn't be venturing into. They had their separate lives; they were too different now, and not even because they were complete opposites.

Her lips brushed against his one last time in a soft, gentle, breeze. Sympathetic, he thought, as her eyes met his, streaming with regret and at the same time apologetic not for what she did, but to him. He caught that light in her eyes, even before she looked away. She didn't get up or run; she only placed a hand over her face, hiding herself as she closed her eyes.

"Just...tell me that wasn't because you felt sorry for me."

He had to ask it. Each time it seemed to be timed too perfectly; always the same set up, the same ending. Crushed more than ever, he would be left gathering the pieces of himself that were left as her footsteps disappeared in the sand. But she stayed, like she still didn't know what she wanted.

And she shook her head, like she was just as confused as he was.

"I don't get it-"

"Neither do I!" She snapped, tears piercing her eyes as she looked away again, drawing her knees to her chest like she was trying to curl into a ball and disappear.

He sank back against the side of the tent. How was it that she always seemed to be that way around him? What was it about other people that made her more confident, more trusting?

"We can be honest with each other, okay," he encouraged, leaning a little closer to her; still she shrunk away.

"Yeah," she muttered, "you want to talk about honesty, Jack?"

Sighing, he considered that maybe this was why they weren't meant to be together. Each moment they could have a decent- honest- conversation it was ruined with an argument, a fight, or simply closed behind a curtain as one of them escaped. And it was always her who ran. But if this was his last chance he was going to be honest; maybe more honest than she would have hoped.

"I was the one who let him escape."

A wind rushed through him; suddenly it was cold around him. 

"What?"

The next moment he felt heat rise in his chest. His throat threatened to run dry, chasing him as he stumbled around for words. There was a timer over him, a button, ticking down the moments until it was too late.

"The prisoner, their doctor," he began, "I set him free. He didn't attack me."

"What?" Kate said, eyes narrowing; betrayed. Hurt. "Jack, Sayid told me he escaped! He said that he hit you. I was thinking that he was out there somewhere, free, just waiting to...to let history repeats itself. What the hell were you thinking? Why would you do that?"

Mouth hanging agape she stared at him, all the trust they developed erased with walls of hot anger. He swallowed and convinced himself he was doing the right thing.

"Alex told me they had this book," he explained, suddenly sinking at the impact of her stare. Her eyes that just moments ago seemed so hopeful, so ready to erase the past. Maybe he imagined it all...maybe he was hallucinating again. "a binder of notes about every experiment they tried on me, everything they found out about my past. Everything I told them and even stuff I didn't."

"How-"

"I don't know," he cut in, thinking of the name he read before she invited herself in.

Now she was eager for information, to find out about him. As they always were with the opportunity to learn more about each other. Because they couldn't just talk; they couldn't just share experiences. How had that gotten to be so complicated? He wondered if they ever truly trusted one another, if every moment they depended on each other was simply because of convience.

"I told him to bring it to me" Jack finished quietly.

"Did he?"

Jack reached behind him, holding his melting breath as his fingers curled around the edges of his bind. He pulled his past out of the sand, inching it away from the shelter it'd been hiding in. Maybe even protecting him. Words had already slipped away from his as he brought out the book, holding it before him, not opening it. He didn't want her to see what was on the first page.

"Have you read it?" She asked softly.

She was staring at it like he had discovered a wealthy treasure, hungry with anticipation, eyes glowing with barely controlled patience.

"Some of it."

But dancing around lies was becoming just as painful as lying. Honesty. He was truly losing the meaning of the word. When had he become this little creature that scurried around the truth, like a lab rat finding its way out of a maze? He swallowed, knowing the silence was expected.

"You have to be careful, Jack," her voice was only a whisper until she reached his name and became thick with what he thought he recognized as honest concerned. But he couldn't even tell for sure anymore. "What if you don't know what you're doing?"

"That's why I have this," Jack said, lifting the book up a little.

She smiled slightly.

"I guess you're happy," she said, not sarcastically, "you have all the answers you need."

"Yeah."

She smiled again and inched forward once more, her knees scraping against the sand as she placed her hands on his shoulders. Leaning forward gently she brushed her lips against his softly; a promise for more to come. Her hand slipped down his arm as she sat back on her heals. He noticed her fingers lingering as they ran across the scars of his left arm. A sad smile found its way across his face; she mirrored it.

"I can't have this," she whispered with a broken smile and a shake of the head.

"Yes you can." 

Especially since he wanted this now more than ever. It seemed so possible now; they were so close. The world was in his hands, weightless. Sans lies, almost without restraint except for the ghost crawling across her face now, pulling her back. Her hand dropped to her side. She smiled a final sad smile before standing up, her ankles brushing against the sand as delicately as her lips had traced his just moments ago. She stood with a grace, with a glow surrounding her he didn't want to let go of. 

Night blinded him as she pulled his tent open. Moonlight shone in his eyes like a glaring father's eyes, and he swore he saw in them a shake of the head, the turn of a stiff suit, the flap of the shoulders of a lab coat. He watched as her footsteps disappeared further and further away, chasing away from him like a mirage. He was left with the book, with the flap of the wind as his tent closed, as the eye blinked and left him alone to pick up the pieces.

She fooled herself thinking that no one knew she was out her. She told herself that, pretending as she imagined herself in the thick of a field, gazing at the golden moonlight that stretched out miles before her, towering over empty farmland. Everyone was asleep. The world was hers and she could have whatever she wanted.

The darkness moaned in a brush of wind and she shuddered. She could have sworn Jack was beside her, her hand on his shoulder, his eyes confused and accepting. A moment she had waited for for months, for hours of empty nights. Now she was left to stare, to imagine a world not so complicated. Where no one would get hurt. And she remembered as she caught the slightest push in the breeze as the walls of his tent shifted, as he sat reading his past.

_She stared up at him as his eyes floated above hers in horror, as his arm pressed hard against her shoulder. Something hot and stinging was rushing away from her, leaving her breathless with something haggard and heavy leaving her throat. Struggling breaths, shocked, silent, words as she watched, as she saw..._

She saw him as a kid in a situation she recognized, drawn to the edge of his bed, leaning against cold pillows as arguing reached her from the distance. Loud and violent. 

She watched an awkward moment between friends, not even twelve years old, both covered in bruises in swollen faces. His friend winced as he saw who she knew to be a young Jack with a paler, wounded, face and longer hair. 

"Sorry, Jack," his friend whispered, ruined with guilt as he glanced at the bruises on his friend's face.

She watched as a blonde woman ran from him, strained with dry tears as she left him clinging to a countertop, eyes bursting with wounded sorrow and half-clean dishes swimming in the sink.

As a disappointed, cold, face of an older man shook his head and turned away, and suddenly she felt like nothing matter anymore. Like her whole life just walked away from her.

_Then she was looking up at him again, this man she barely recognized anymore after so many unfamiliar flashes of his life, gazing down at her in amazement, like a miracle had fallen on them._

Kate wiped away a tear under the moon that blinked away sorrow and smiled faintly, and remembered on her own as he kissed her, so many months ago, her hands sweaty and clinging to his arms, caught in a whirlwind of confusion and desperation. Wanting something concrete, something she could understand. Someone who could understand.

Yet when she looked away, when she met his eyes, she knew that he could never understand. Now...now she watched as somewhere in secret he was turning the pages of his past, desperate to understand. For someone to understand...

And she realized they weren't that far from each other at all.

"Are you coming in?" Sawyer asked impatiently, his voice bursting against the night like a sharp ray of lightening.

She jumped and wrapped her hands around her knees, hiding her surprise- and disappointment- as she looked away.

"No," she whispered quietly, "I'm going to stay out here for awhile."

"Whatever," Sawyer muttered, uninteresting. Then he lightened at opportunity. "Want some company?"

"No."

She waited until she heard the brush of the tent closing and shuddered, looking back up, eyes locking in on who she had been watching all night. Somewhere behind his own closed walls he sat, unbeknownst of her dreaming, and searched for his answers. She waited, waited for the courage she sought to help him, to admit to him how much she agreed with him. She watched as though a curse took over her, possessing her and taking hold of her in trance, teasing her with these dreams, what she wanted, what she could never had. What she wanted...

After making sure Juliet was okay with watching the kids for the night he hid himself amongst the walls of his tent, unknown to the world except for one person who understood the answers he sought. And now as his future lay ruined, his hope tarnished, he wanted to know more than ever what wrecked his life. What was so important that interrupted what could have mended the traces of a path he had been trying to follow. But his mind could only lock on two words, the same two words his eyes had frozen over before Kate came, listed under 'Family'. There were answers filled for his mother and father, answers he could have provided. But then there was a name listed he didn't understand, who he wouldn't have known to say, who shouldn't have been there. A name that must have been a mistake, because if this was true than there were even more answer for him to seek, a dangerous side of his life he needed to search into. A side of himself he never knew existed. Did she know? He stared down at the name, the one person he needed to talk to. The one person he never expected to talk about this with:

_Claire Littleton._

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the reviews! See? I told you I'd try to keep up with updating again! Hopefully I'll be able to continue like this. Thanks again!

Until next time...

October Sky


	27. 1A

Life Interrupted

Chapter Twenty-Seven

**Author's Note: **I don't think I've given Juliet a last name, so I'm giving her one in this chapter. Since some of this was written before season three the characters are meant to be different than who they are in the show- even people like Ben and Juliet. Juliet more than Ben, but even so, they're not exactly the same. Juliet's not really the same at all, so I'm going to give her a last name to remind people of this. Sorry for any confusion. Tell me if you're confused, though, because if too many people are I might have to change or add somethings to help everyone understand.

Thanks for the reviews!

**Chapter Twenty-Seven:** 1A

The giggle floated to him, from the little boy's mouth to his ears, to the smile that threatened to play on his lips. He watched as the child- Jack watched as his nephew- jumped around in the early morning tide, held protectively by Claire. He was standing straight, her small little fist hidden in hers, and they were both smiling, the bright rays matching the blonde of their hair.

Where did blonde come from? His mother had dark hair, his father had dark hair, he had dark hair. And now these two new people: both blondes.

Maybe it meant that none of what he read was true. It would make sense, because Jack still couldn't wrap his mind around it...

_Claire was his sister._

Half-sister, technically, but still, when he'd never known any family other than his parents and never expected the family line to continue, the phenomenon changed his life. It changed the way he viewed his father, viewed Claire, viewed Aaron- his _nephew_.

It changed his family.

And as much as he wanted to view this as a good thing, as a positive change that actually brought a light to his island experience, he couldn't find a way to truly believe that. He knew how to do the math. He knew what the facts were: Claire Littleton was Christian Shephard's daughter. But Claire Littleton was not Margaret Shephard's daughter. Her mother's name belonged to some Carol Littleton, an Australian born in Sydney. Claire couldn't have been more than twenty-four, and all he had to do was think back.

The shadows shifted next to him, and his eyes fell to the ground as Kate took a seat beside him. A smile was lingering on her face, as though she had thought of something amusing on her way here. He glanced at her, a stolen, hopeful, frightened, curious glance, and watched as she looked down, ignoring his eyes.

She swallowed before speaking.

"What happened last night-"

"It was a mistake," Jack finished for her.

There had been other things on his mind besides his newest family member. The fact that he and Kate kissed- _again, twice_- brought their relationship to a new level they weren't supposed to be venturing to. That door had been locked long ago, and Jack thought that he was the only one opening that room at night, daring to turn the key, contemplating, imagining.

"It wasn't." He turned to her, certain that he'd imagined that, as well as he imagined her saying many other things along those same line. She'd spoken so quietly; no one in the world but him could know. "I meant it." She turned her eyes to him, connecting with him in a hopeful, yet shy, way. "If you did."

He nodded, maybe a little too desperately.

"Yeah," he admitted, "I mean...I like you."

He felt his muscles tense, his cheeks redden. He hadn't been prepared for this. He could have never been.

Kate smiled a small, flattered, glow.

"I just don't think I can leave him," she confessed.

"I'm sure he's been left many times before," Jack teased, but immediately felt guilty. He had to agree with Kate's reply.

"I'm sure you have too." She grinned and then rested her chin in the palm of her hand. "Sorry, that was an insult."

"Yeah," he shot sarcastically.

A grin was actually forming on his face as well. He hadn't been in this moment for a long, long time, and never expected to be. It was a lot like finding out he had a sister...except he was realizing that maybe all he was dreaming wasn't just a pretend reality. It was the positive side of his day.

"Look, just do what you want to do."

She grinned again.

"This would have been so much easier if you had come back and were in love with Juliet."

"Oh, so you wouldn't have feelings for me if I were in love with another woman?"

Even though he was smiling it felt weird saying that; he hadn't dated anyone in almost two years. More than two years if he could ever successful forget the little more than frightening end to his trip to Pucket.

Kate shook her head, waving the question away. She was wrong, he thought, because he was in that exact position.

"It's not easy," he said quietly; they fell silent.

Ahead of them Aaron laughed, radiating with a glow of innocent that couldn't even touch the darkness of the jungle. They both did. That boy was the world to her- to his sister. He wondered if he could ever have that same feeling: to not have to worry about the island, their situation, and just be grateful for those around them.

Like last night.

His eyes fell to the ground. It was the closest way of pinpointing how he felt about last night. The hope that rose there, that'd come closer to the surface ever than before, that he could actually have something on this island- a relationship that didn't arise from a doctor-patient status, or a walking by and saying hello every morning status. He needed something permenate in his life, someone who wouldn't leave him, someone who wouldn't go and have a secret family in Australia. He really didn't want to have to tell her to just do what she wanted to do. Because he had a feeling that meant to her to do what was right.

"Read anything good lately?"

Jack looked up, surprised at the sudden topic changed. Did it mean she didn't want to hurt him or that she was still deciding what to do?

"Just learning more stuff about me that I didn't know," Jack sighed, "like looking through a family album..."

Quite literally.

But Kate smiled, because obviously she didn't know what he meant. He turned to her then, and just out of curiosity, because he realized he didn't even know, asked:

"Do you have any siblings?"

Kate shook her head, quickly able to answer but noticeably shrinking away at the topic of family. He supposed he would be doing the same from now on.

"Just me, my mom, and my step dad," she replied without the slightest bit of interest.

"Did you ever know your real dad?"

It wasn't like him to be so curious, and she would know this and no doubt question him, but he watched her, fascinated as the question caught her in an unwanted silence. Like it was the last thing he should have asked about.

"Yeah, he...he was great."

He left the conversation there. She swallowed and blinked, closing her eyes a minute. Fighting back tears. A heart-crushing guilt reached him, tugging at him to apologize. Or to confess. But he remained silent, waiting for the conversation to be over, because he knew then that this really was the last thing they should be talking about.

He felt her hand grace his as a slight brush of a cool breeze, but by the time he looked down she was already standing.

"I'll leave you to your book," she replied softly, footsteps echoing away with a familiar hurried pace.

Jack looked down, suddenly turning angry, though he knew he shouldn't have.

_She doesn't know anything._

--

The day was silent, as though taunting him about his uneventful personal life. Loneliness followed him everywhere, and he didn't notice until Kate was left to choose to fulfill his hopes or to save the man she was already with the depression that Jack knew too well. Ironically, at the same time he found out there was someone that should be apart of his life, should be from the very beginning. And now she was walking up to him, approaching the outdoor kitchen. His sister and nephew were still grinning. Normally he would have found that sickening. Now it was only intimidating. Who was he to interrupt her life with this secret? He had no idea how she lived her life before this island. She was only in her early twenties...

Jack remembered the early 1980s as a period of silence. The calm before the storm. His dad left frequently, claiming that he was offered a temporary position to help with patients that could not be transported to St. Sebastian. His mother must have suspected him, even then, because she spent those empty days with a grim, silent, face, radiating everything she would love to accuse her with. Jack walked by her uncertainly, occasionally throwing her a brave, hopeful, glance but never daring to ask. He knew his parents kept things from him. He was sixteen and old enough to know that his parents had lives; they weren't just robots who went to work, came home, ate, and slept. Even though that's how it seemed sometime.

Sixteen years old...

He glanced up at Claire, suddenly horrified. Disgusted, he realized.

His sister was sixteen years younger than him.

He was becoming one of those people he heard about on talk shows, talking about their unthinkable dysfunctional families, and would simply ignore with a laugh. Those people seemed to be in a world away; they would never touch his reality. And here he was, more dysfunctional than ever.

"What do you want for lunch today?" Claire smiled as she glanced at her baby, as though expecting the one and a half year old to answer, and scanned the food selection in front of her.

His father would never understand how much his daughter struggled. How determined, dedicated, she was.

Just then it occurred to him: had Claire seen his ghost as well?

"Applesauce it is." Claire smiled again as her baby laughed, attempted to reach for the jar as she took it from the shelf. "No, your not big enough to lift that yet. We start with little things, remember?"

She glanced up just then and offered Jack a smiled. He attempted to smile back but didn't think it worked.

"How are you doing today, Jack?" Claire asked as she began to scoop out the applesauce.

_More than someone to just say hello to everyday..._

"Fine."

He smiled awkwardly and she just laughed, like she understood how out of place he felt.

"It's still weird to see you here," Claire said. As she reached for a can of baby carrots Jack found himself watching Aaron as he dug his finger into the pool of applesauce and licked it away happily. _His hands have been digging around in the sand all day..._ "But, I mean, I'm glad you're back- Aaron!"

The little boy only laughed as she wiped the remaining applesauce with the end of her t-shirt and picked up a spoon. Dharma clearly hadn't planned on raising a baby on the island, so the spoon was larger than what we would have recommended to use to feed a baby. But he tried to clear the thought away. He couldn't start acting like an older brother, like an _uncle_- which made him feel way too old- until he told Claire. What if she didn't accept him into her life? Into her family? And really, it wasn't like this was going to be an easy path for him either.

"Here."

She attempted to spoonfeed the child but Aaron only looked away, chin knocking against the spoon in protest. Claire sighed.

"You have to eat!" She begged. "You haven't eaten since early morning and we've been playing by the ocean all day!"

A smile spread across his lips. He couldn't help it. She must have known the baby couldn't really understand her, but she was just trying so hard at parenting...

Another frightening thought: his sister, who was sixteen years younger then him, had a child before he did.

Suddenly he wanted to know everything. Where did she work? Where did she go to school? What was the house like that she grew up in? Her mother...did she talk about his father often? When he went over, did his father talk about _him_? Maybe Claire knew. Maybe Claire knew she had a brother somewhere, and she just didn't expect for him to be on the same island as her.

How did she react when she found out she was pregnant? She was young- he didn't want to judge her, but something had caused her to want to fly across the world nearly weeks before she was due.

To L.A.

Where he lived...

The world froze over. Claire's smiles stopped, everything slowed down as though he had actually been able to press pause.

Maybe she had been traveling to see him, to find this brother she always knew of.

"You okay?" Claire asked, glancing over him in amused concern. "You look a little distant there."

"Just thinking," he replied, "you're really great with kids. Did you have any siblings growing up?"

It was the million dollar question of the day. He wondered if rumors would start.

"No," Claire said, more lightly than Kate had. Then maybe she didn't know...or maybe Claire wasn't so emotionally attached to him that she felt the need to hide secrets from him. "Just me and my mom. My aunt was around a lot though. Lindsey. She practically raised me."

"You didn't know your father?"

He was aware of his heart pounding, of his throat trembling, throbbing in fear of what he might learn. Even if he already knew it.

Claire shook her head.

"He wasn't really a part of my life."

This time her voice was cold, cutting through her previous casual answer with a sharpness that could have competed with Kate. It even surprised him, hearing that distance from another.

"Come on, Aaron," she pleaded, now more impatiently. Which was his fault.

"Here, let me help," he offered.

He stepped up to her and carefully took place behind Aaron. The child had been swinging his arms madly, suddenly insistent on not eating the food he had once been so excited about. Jack held his breath, his fingers touching the baby's palms gently, curling them into his hands. The child's skin felt like velvet: smooth and flawless, catching him with a gasp of surprise, just small enough for him to hear. Claire lifted the spoon once again to her son's mouth, and this time the baby was stopped from fighting back. He swallowed with a bitter look on his face, and Jack smiled. Even so young Aaron knew exactly what he wanted from this world.

He wondered if an uncle fit anywhere in that picture...

Maybe he should use that word sparingly. Charlie might think he was trying to replace him.

"Good boy," Claire said, rubbing the sides of her child's mouth gently with her finger, "see, it taste better on a spoon, doesn't it? God knows where those hands have been."

Jack smiled, agreeing silently. He stood behind Aaron, though the boy quickly gave into the meal, and watched every movement following. She was right handed like he was, like his father was. Like most people in the world were, he reminded himself. He watched as she gently reached up with the spoon, placing it inside the child's mouth and bringing it down again, over and over again, as though she didn't mind doing this all day.

Having a girl in the family would be something knew. His mom wasn't really a part of his life- her decision to run out on him was probably based on finding out that there was another woman who shared her role in Christian Shephard's life. He wondered what it would have been like, to been there as Claire grew up. When she was a teenager, to help her, to guide her. To beat up with whatever guy left her pregnant and willing to fly with the baby across the world. Possibly many other boyfriends before...

And more, to have someone there to actually talk to. Had it not been for school Jack wasn't sure if he would have ever learned how to talk. Silence was like a rule in his house; break it and yelling pursued, and then he would never wish that he would have ever wondered what speaking was like. Maybe he would have been more confident. Maybe he would have been a completely different person. Even if he was in his twenties and early thirties as Claire went through her teen years.

"See you later."

Jack bounced back into reality to noticed that claire had put the dishes away and had already lifted Aaron into her arms. She smiled as he caught her goodbye. This was his chance. Possibly his last chance, because if he waited any longer he would become certain that it was a lie. That's what all this thinking, this wondering meant: it wasn't true. It had never been true and in no way could be.

"Claire-"

She stopped and turned towards him. God, she had no idea what was coming...

Jack swallowed, nerves shaking him. He knew what it was like to have his life ruined, changed completely. And it had never turned out for the better...now he would be the person doing the interrupting.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Yeah," she eyed him carefully as she step closer, "sure. About what?"

He swallowed again and looked around. There was no one from a safe distance away, but still he felt caught in the open.

"Not here," he said.

"Okay..."

He thought he wasn't breathing but at the same time he managed to push himself forward, concentrating on the crashing of the waves as he and Claire settled into the sand by the shore. A smile sprouted as waves rushed by her feet; Aaron laughed as she sat him in her lap. Jack winced, wishing he'd thought to ask her to take him somewhere else. But now the two were sharing smiles, their hands clapping against the waves that splashed against them.

He had to start somewhere. A fit of laughter erupted beside him...

"How old are you, Claire?" He attempted to sound casual.

"Twenty-two," Claire replied.

"1982..."

The date came to him automatically, and he realized he should have known all along. All of it began to piece together-

"What happened in 1982?" Claire asked, throwing him a curious glance as she placed Aaron further in her lap.

His eyes danced and forth as the years rolled past him: the fights revolving with silence, the divorce, the feeling that his life had been broken...like he was ripped in two.

"It was the year before my parent's divorce," he admitted, "I was sixteen."

Claire looked down, for the first time in contrast to her son's smiling face.

"I'm sorry." The was a pause that the crashing waves interrupted, and Aaron's erupting laughs. Claire smiled sadly. "That must have been hard."

Jack nodded.

"Yeah, it was."

"Did you have any brothers or sisters?" She asked, as though just the suggestion would heal the past.

Little did she know...

"It was just me and my dad most of my life."

It wasn't a lie. Not completely.

"What about you?" He couldn't help but to ask.

Claire shook her head."

"Just me and my mom." She stopped, staring out to the sea for a moment. "Well, my aunt- her sister- did stay with us a lot. Help out, you know."

"Yeah."

But he was already beginning to lose heart with the conversation as words played tricks on him: in that moment he was certain that Claire was going to say that she once heard she had a brother. How was he supposed to introduce the subject?

Jack swallowed, daring to begin to talk again.

"My dad, he was a doctor," he began, words squirming to leave him, "he was gone a lot...after the divorce. And before."

Claire nodded, understanding exactly what he was going to. He stole a glance towards her, saw her sink into the distance, and recognized a flash of familiarity cover the darkness she fell to with memory.

"My father was a doctor, too," he looked at her, and it was only after she said that that he remembered she was talking about _his _father, "he was an American. I only met him once...my mom, she was in an accident. He came out to help us." She laughed dryly. "Trying to ease his guilty conscience."

Jack winced. This conversation wasn't going to go his way. He was going to learn more about his father than he ever dreamed of, ever wanted to know. These were things he shouldn't have known...and for good reason. His father wasn't the honorable citizen, the saint, he made himself out to be. Jack knew that, of course. He knew that the first time he caught his father taking a sip from the contents hidden under the locked cabinet in his study. But there were things even he couldn't figure out, that even his mother probably didn't know the whole story of.

Claire stopped suddenly, as though just realizing what she was talking about.

"Why are we talking about this?" She asked, throwing him an uncertain glance.

"Because..."

_She won't believe me._

"We're talking about this because I think my father and your father-"

_I don't believe me._

"are the same guy."

He stopped, feeling breathless, like a percentage of his life had been sucked out of him.

Silence followed.

Even the waves seemed hollow; Aaron's laughs seemed to distant to be right next to him. To be apart of him...

"What makes you say that?"

She let out a laugh, an air of innocent memories trying to stay together.

"They're both American, and surgeons..."

"I'm sure a lot of people qualify for that," Claire said, attacking the comment like she was determined to make this not true. He understood; he wanted his life to stay the same as much as she did. It was easier that way. The things he might find out...they would change everything. And his memories of his father were hard enough to deal with already. "What, are they both male too?"

"I'm serious, Claire."

"Then why?" She turned to him, eyes cold, daring him to explain. "Tell me why you think we have the same father."

"'81 to '82...my father was gone nearly that entire time," Jack began, hiding behind his words as they drew memories of confusion, of hatred, "and even then, in '83 he would disappear like he had somewhere to go. Someone to take care of."

"I don't care," Claire snapped, "I want proof. I mean, this is huge, Jack. It's not like you're telling me we had the same school teacher. You're saying we have the same father. Like we're related. Like you're my _brother_."

"Half-brother, technically," Jack commented.

He offered her a smile that was met with hardened tears, ready to burst at any minute if he didn't give them a reason not to.

"I've just..."

But he couldn't lie to her. The words literally got caught in his throat; he could feel pressure holding him back, threatening to choke him if he told his lie. No, he couldn't lie to her. Not about this.

"Follow me."

He stood wordlessly and began a journey to his tent, feeling as though he'd just began leading her on a backpacking trip across a country. Consciously he began thinking of stops to make, reasons to procrastinate, reasons to just stay and enjoy life as it was.

"Okay, what is it?"

Jack looked up at Claire's words. They were already there.

Drawing a deep breath he worked around the lumps of nerves still laying there and opened the flat of his tent, leading Claire into the interior of the world he'd been fighting so hard to keep hidden. She looked around, her son bouncing with equally as curious eyes in her hands.

He hesitated, eyes dancing around where the book lay underneath a whole in the sand. Clothes and supplies had been thrown in an unorganized pile on top of it, easily hiding the line faintly drawn in the sand; still he worried that he was losing his touch on keeping secrets.

He turned to Claire.

"You have to promise me that you won't tell anyone what I'm about to show you," he said.

Claire nodded, stiff and uncertain.

"Promise me," he said again, only willing to believe a verbal response. And even then...some of these things he wouldn't blame Claire for not being able to keep to herself.

"I promise."

Jack turned, letting out a breath of dry uncertainty. He bent down, removing a pair of torn jeans from the pile. The grime from the worn fabric rubbed off on the sweat of his trembling fingers as he cleared the way for the hidden compartment in the sand the book lay in: the point of no return. Claire was watching him, he knew without even turning to her, and the heat of the silence was enough to push the world to a stop. The book appeared before him, cleared away with a coating of dark sand, and with unsteady hands he picked it up. He turned to her without knowing if he would make it without stumbling.

"What's this?" Claire asked as he handed her the book.

There was an echoey thud as the book fell into her hands. Aaron was now playing on the ground, eyeing the unraveled hole as he built pyramids of sand.

"This is a record of everything that happened to me over the past nine months," Jack explained.

Suddenly the world was rushing to catch up with time. He swore he felt the wind brush by him, when in reality all remained stiff and silent.

She opened the first page. His heart raced.

"Dr. Jack Shephard," he had to hold back from wincing as she began reading outloud, "born August first, 1970 of Los Angelas, California. Employed at St. Sebastian..." he watched as her eyes caught the next section of the first page, the section he staring at, "mother Margaret Shephard, father Christian Shephard...half-sister, Claire Littleton."

She froze. She tried to speak but her words came out as silenced surprise, as though she were choking her air. Finally, shaking her head frantically, the word 'no' began to appear under rapid breath.

"This is insane..." she looked up to him with wide, horrified, eyes as though she'd just realized she was related to the devil, "you...you don't believe them, do you?"

"I have to," Jack said, "I mean, everything else is right. Everything. There's stuff in there about me, about my past that I couldn't have even told them and they knew."

"No kidding," Claire muttered, and turned back to the book.

She turned a page and then another, landing on the picture of his father from his work I.D. Jack looked away.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Claire begin to shake her head again as she read until getting to her feet.

"Where are you going?" He asked her.

She left the book laying closed on the ground as picked up Aaron, blowing a strand of hair angrily out of the way.

"I can't do this," she began, "I can't deal with this."

"Claire, we have to talk about this-"

"I don't have to talk about anything!" He froze in surprise as her words echoed across the thick walls of tension floating around them. "I'm not talking about anything! I spent my whole life trying to deal with not having a father, trying to tell myself that having half a family didn't bother me, that it didn't matter. And then, when I met my father, I tried to tell myself that it still didn't matter. Until I realized...until I was told that there was someone else out there, another family, another child, that my father cared about more than me. And that's why I couldn't have a completed family. There was someone out there who was more important than me, who my father loved more than me. He couldn't even take the time to come visit me when I was growing up, or call on my birthday. Or even tell me who he was! I _hated_ this person who my father loved more than me. That's why I can't talk about this, because I've spent the past few years hating you."

He knew the familiarity of being hurt by a family member; he never thought he'd experience that again after his father died. Her confession burned through him like someone lit his entire childhood with a match and was letting it slowly melt away, only each flamed danced with a piercing sting against his chest, pushing through him emotions that he couldn't begin to understand. He hated her then. Hated her more than she claimed to hate him. And he felt guilty. He knew what it was like to think that he hurt a family member; he felt it with every nightmare he had on the island, that he all his life. But he knew he hadn't hurt her, but just then he had even more to accuse her of.

"Fine, you want to play that game?" He shot. "All my life I've searched for a reason for my parent's divorce. A reason for why _my _family had to be broken. And I always hated my mother, because I thought it was her fault. Sometimes I just assumed it was, because she was the one who left. My father stayed with me because leaving me would have been just as much as a sin as abandoning his other child. My father stayed with me, and whatever reason caused the divorce- and I _wander_ what that could have been- haunted him until life finally became impossible for him to deal with."

He laughed.

He didn't mean to, he didn't expect to. He laughed, he realized, because it all made sense. All of it. Every mystery, every whole in his life. The truth was breathing down his neck, grinning, aged, scolding him for taking this long to understand.

"It all makes sense now," he said quietly; he suddenly felt sick, "all of it...my father was completely ruined after the divorce. He never really got back to who he was before. And even before...I never really understood who he was. And now it all makes sense. It's all because of you."

It wasn't fair that Claire was glaring back at him with eyes made of glass stone, like what he accused her of was worse than what she accused him of. Neither of their arguments were true, part of him tried to convince himself of that, but the fact was that there was one very real, physical, reason that caused his father suffered through life, that caused _him_ to have to suffer. That proof was Claire. She was standing in front of him, the radiance of sincerity that used to glow around her gone. He should have always known there was more to her than being all smiles, positivity.

She swirled around, hugging Aaron tightly as her footsteps clashed against the sand. Aaron glanced back at him, confused, and suddenly Jack felt the breath that had been running thickly out of him stop.

They could be a family. They were a family...he should be taking care of them, at least of Aaron. This revelation was a second chance, a blank slate for his childhood. Aaron hadn't messed up yet, there was no reason for anyone to ruin his life.

"Claire-"

It seemed like she stopped only to breathe heavily, only to raise an accusing finger at him and shoot him with fiery eyes; he swore Aaron's own tiny eyes grew dark then as well.

"I don't want you anywhere near me or my baby."

Sunlight blinded him as she stormed outside; the past brushed against him as grains of sharp sand. Wind swirled nearby and he was left alone, as though a storm just swept him away from one life and threw him into another.

--

When he left the beach Claire was hidden away with Charlie and her baby, kept safely in the shelter of their own tent. She ignored him all afternoon. To be fair, he had done the same to her. He wondered if she had gotten to the point of admitting that her accusations were uncalled-for, and maybe she was just not wanting to be the one to admit that they were wrong.

He wondered why he had yet to reach that point.

Silence relieved him of the outside world, and as he entered the living area he remembered why he came so drawn to the hatch during his first few days back. Solitude. Here he was hidden from the world, literally, and the complete silence drew him into a separate world.

Jack looked up, surprised to see a small figure sitting on the couch right as he was about to do the same.

The problem with the hatch was that a certain few people felt the same way about it as he did.

"Emma?" Jack asked, he glanced around but knew it was too silent for even Sayid to be lingering in one of the back rooms.

She barely glanced up. Her legs were tucked underneath one another with her elbows rested on her knees, chin in hand. She heaved a sigh in that way that children do when the don't want to admit outloud their problems. Taking a seat beside her, he gazed at her a moment, hoping that suddenly he would gain a mind reading power. Dealing with children wasn't his forte; usually people who had little hope for the world themselves weren't the best qualified for that category.

"What's wrong?"

He winced. He was supposed to know what was going on- it was one of the number one rules of taking care of a child. Emma shifted in her seat, hesitating now that she had to tell him the full story. She opened her mouth but only teased him with the thought of a confession.

"You shouldn't be down here alone." His attempt at a softer approach was met with the same silence. "Does anyone know you're here?"

"You do."

She sounded like she might cry, like the very effort of those two words cracked her fragile state even further. Jack sighed.

"Emma, I really don't want you going places alone like this. It's not safe-"

Tearing away from the couch she leapt to the floor and in seconds had stormed into an adjacent sitting room nearby. Jack followed her without hesitation; he knew from his own experience that this wasn't the kind of state that kids should be left in. Not that that meant anything to his parents. They never even noticed.

They were too busy having second families in Australia...

"Emma-"

"You're not my father, okay?" She shrieked; tears had already started flowing down her face, staining her sickly skin with a silence that followed.

"But I care about you."

"Only because you have to."

She ripped her eyes away, gazing at the floor as she crawled into the corner of a recliner. The broken record player sat next to her; the cover of the light hovering above them had been thrown half off since the numbers incident. Jack glanced at the swerving light and then back at Emma.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He demanded, taking a seat across from her.

"You care about people because what else are you going to do?" Emma snapped. "It's not like you were just going to leave me and Zach alone in that room and not pay attention to us."

"Trust me, people have a choice about caring about others," he said, "is that what this is about?"

Emma bit her lip. When she spoke tears squirmed in her voice, sprouting with an anger he realized he had never seen in her. And by now, he should have.

"Zach's birthday was two weeks ago and he didn't even say anything," she began, "he turned seven. I'm supposed to be starting school soon. I was already supposed to be starting school when the plane crashed! I'm supposed to be in seventh grade but I only just finished fifth! And it doesn't even matter, because we're never going to get off this island! I'm never going to have a future! I'm never going to get to do anything! It's not fair...everything happened to me."

Arms wrapped tightly around her knees, Emma dropped her head, closing her eyes as tears filed through. On instinct he thought to go to her but found himself caught in her words.

She was right. He would never admit it outloud, especially never to her, but Emma was right. He couldn't say anything against her because he thought those same words every night, had accused the world of the same injustice. There had to be some medium and now he needed it; some sort of reassurance.

"Then I guess I'm the right person to talk to," Jack offered, "because all of that stuff happened to me too."

"Really?" Emma shot, glaring at him. "Were you not able to be with your friends on your eighth birthday? Your family? Were you not able to complete school? Were you left to take care of your little brother, who's only eight, and you're only eleven?"

"No, but I worked at a career that means nothing," Jack pointed out. He didn't mean to defend himself; he didn't want this to turn out like the fight with Claire. But this seemed to be what she was looking for- she was looking for a reason to not feel as sorry for herself, to not feel so alone. "Spent almost a decade in medical school only to end up treating colds and rashes. All that money, that time. I had friends, coworkers. And my mom..."

Emma raised an eyebrow as he trailed off, reluctant to go into a story about his father's death with a child. He wasn't even sure if he told Emma about him.

But now he wanted to be with his mother more than ever. He would never get the chance to tell her that he understood her, that he understood her reasons for leaving even though he wished she had stayed. He felt closer to her than ever, like two sides of a war that discover a common enemy.

"Do you ever worry about your family?" Emma asked softly. "And your friends..."

She trailed off like she was doing just that at that moment. He wondered if Emma realized how she was manipulating the conversation to be a therapy session for both of them, while she was the only one who got to ask for help.

"My mom probably thinks I'm dead."

When he looked up at her he was relieved that her eyes had fallen to the floor. The almost silent, helpless, addition to her statement might have been the very last thing he ever wanted to hear come out of a child's mouth. And she had been thinking like this for so long...how long had it been? He had been convincing himself for too long that she had everything under control. He was so used to going through this cycle of tragedy that his view of the world sometimes tilted, not thinking things were as bad as they really were. He was blocking it all out. But hearing that statement come from Emma sent the world crashing around him...he would never be able to look at her the same way, think of the island in the same way. They really were this lost. Everything she was saying was true.

And he couldn't admit to any of it. He was supposed to stay strong...somehow he had to help her.

He stood quietly, offering himself the rest of the small couch that's left as Emma buried herself into the corner. His arm fell around her, and in moments the weight of a pillow fell on his shoulder and the soft tears of a child filled the room. He held her there, closing his eyes to block out the echo of her cries against the silence. His arm wrapped around her more tightly; somehow this made him feel like there was actually someone there for them.

--

_He sat in the middle of the room where the experiments took place, wondering even then what the place was called. Was it somewhere the rest of the Others knew of? Dr. Campbell's shadow bent over him; Jack twitched as a needle drew closer to his arm. He managed to convince himself the syringe wasn't real when the doctor was preparing it, but now he could already feel the liquid running through his body, and the thought of the medicine running cold against his hollow skin formed a sour lump in his throat._

_"Test 1A-"_

_Dr. Campbell groaned, interrupting Alex. She stood behind the desk area, leaning over a computer and speaking into a voice recorder._

_"What?" She demanded._

_"If you tell him this is test 1A, then he knows there is a test 1B," Dr. Campbell explained. He lowered his voice, mumbling: "Anticipation ruined everything."_

_He wondered if letting him hear this was supposed to help._

_"What is that?" Jack attempted, eyeing the syringe with a roaring fear that he hoped only determine._

_"You don't need to worry about that."_

_The doctor's lower lip tucked under the other firmly as his eyes met with the syringe; he shook it just slightly, and though all Jack saw was a glimpse of yellow liquid bursting upwards for a moment, this seem to perfect his preparations._

_"Okay," Dr. Campbell announced- fear beat madly in his chest, knotting so tightly that he was sure he might be sick, "you don't need to to worry about this. I'm serious. This is just a precaution."_

_"A precaution for what?" _

_Fear dripped off of his words like vomit. He could feel his face turning white, his muscles tighten. The needle inched closer to him._

_"You won't even notice it's there."_

_His last thought was a worry that the doctor's lack of response was due to a lack of certainty of his own experiment. Maybe they really didn't know what their experiments would do..._

_After all, that was why they called them experiments._

The needle crushed his skin, ripping through him with an ear-piercing pain he didn't recognize as a scream until he woke up and found himself face to face with Emma, who had bent down so that she was eye-level with him.

Jack set up, his chest rising and falling heavily but at a sickening pace.

"Did I just scream?"

For once, he didn't really want to know the answer.

"Yeah, but not that loudly," said Emma, sounding amused after their previous fragile conversation, "I'm sure they didn't hear you in Alaska."

She smiled.

She _smiled_.

He wondered if she really knew what was going on, if her slip of emotion earlier hadn't been all that he thought it was. But then her smile faded and she looked down, as though ashamed of herself. She felt sorry for him.

He glanced beside her and almost jumped; Juliet was sitting there. She offered him the same sympathetic smile.

"Did you know you talk in your sleep?" Emma asked lightly.

"What did I say?" Jack said, running a hand over his head.

He blinked but as he did his eyes stung with pain; he remembered shutting them tightly as then needle went through his arm.

"About how you love Kate and a bunch of other stuff I probably shouldn't have heard."

She grinned and he stared at her, wondering if she was even telling the truth. He couldn't remember even thinking about Kate in his dream.

"Emma, why don't you go outside and talk to Sayid?" Juliet suggested. "Tell him that everything's okay."

Emma glanced at him and he stiffened, nodding as he realized she was looking to him for reassurance.

He sighed once only he and Juliet were left.

"At least I got to provide the topic of conversation for tomorrow," Jack muttered.

Juliet laughed dryly, relaxing as she sat back.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" She offered, pushing him slightly with a gentle tone of encouragement.

"Not really."

"Too bad," Juliet replied, "because as long as you're going to keep waking me up at night like this we're going to talk."

She grinned to herself, dropping her eyes as she saw that he wasn't amused.

"Don't worry," she said quietly, "it's understandable. But really...maybe this means that hiding from everyone wasn't the best diagnosis."

"Then what do you think would be the best diagnosis?" He shot. "Because I'm not going to sit around a campfire and tell everyone what I'm seeing."

"Then talk to me," relief flowed through her voice, as though she had been waiting for him to make this point, "if there's anyone who knows what you went through, it's me."

_With ungraceful steps he stumbled towards the door pinned against the wall, feeling like he was traveling through water to get there. His mind was black; he could see it._

_"We brought you a friend to keep you company," an Other told him casually._

_He didn't care. Jack didn't acknowledge the woman he caught with the edge of his vision. He kept walking forward, concentrating on the idea of being able to rest. When he collapsed against the wall he heard a small gasps, but he didn't know if it was him or the woman._

_His head fell into his hands. Someone was pounding against his skull like it was a replacement for a missing bass drum. Fingers digging into the sides of his head he tried to ignore the panicked voice that flooded his attempt at relaxation._

_"Who are you? Where are you from?"_

_The pushing against his skull hardly soothed the pounding; it only created stinging pulses that cumulated to the heavy darkness taking over him. He felt like he might pass out...he'd been pushed to the limit. Whatever they put in him was working with impressive success. Or it was failing miserably._

_"Do you know what's going on? Do you know who they are?"_

_Haggard breaths left him with desperate gasps. He didn't close his eyes but concentrated on a wavy crack in the floor, hoping to regain his slipping conscience. If the woman would only be quiet and stop asking useless questions..._

_"Do you know where we are?"_

_He looked up at her._

_The fear that encouraged her questions, that danced like an out of control waltz in her eyes spoke the true intensity of her confusion. She didn't know anything. Anything._

_"What's wrong?" She asked, voice suddenly changing to concern; he thought before that he heard it in her, but only because she might be losing her one source of information. Of hope._

"I feel numb."

Jack looked up. Juliet's eyes locked with him in concern, more confident and held with answers; if he only talked to her, she would know what was going on.

"I was remembering the time I first met you," he began, lifting his head. His chin had fallen to his palm during his memory, like he was falling asleep. "Something had happened to me..."

"I remember," Juliet admitted quietly, looking down, "they brought you in and you looked like you might be sick, like it was taking everything from you just to take a few steps, to sit against the wall. They came back that afternoon and got you...but for some reason they let you sit there like that all day."

Jack let out a dry laugh.

"I'm not surprised."

"Do you know what it was that happened to you?"

Jack shook his head, but at that moment a knot in the sand caught his attention. The hiding place for the book had been unevenly placed back together that afternoon; all he had been thinking of was how angry, how frustrated he was at Claire. At his father.

It was enough to make him forget what other information that book held.

"I'm going to go make sure everything's okay out there," Juliet said as she stood up, "will you be okay?"

He nodded, eyes not leaving the book until the flap of fabric hitting air rang.

_Test 1A._

He found it after a section of his history, which he skipped over without offering so much as a glance to his father's picture.

_Hypothesis: Decreases control over emotional and physical functions. Used as defense. _

_Possible side effects: cut off of emotion and social instincts, head aches, darkened vision, loss of energy._

_Side effects observed: all_

_Additional side effects: fever_

_Success: yes_

A pounding in his chest drove him forward, sending him flipping through the pages he had yet to venture into.

_Test 32B_

_Hypothesis: Human testing. Used for defense in purposes of captivity._

_Test subjects: Jack Shephard. Juliet Carter._

_Success: yes_

There were no list of possible side affects, only the single world that sent him back:

_"I remembered something," he began quietly, eyes staring into the sand in front of him, tinted by the rain that still fell around them until he was as drenched as Juliet. His shoulders shook, cold, his lips trembled in the freezing rain as he struggled with what he needed to say. "They had you tied up, across from me. I was tied up too. And then...we weren't. I needed to help you, to get us out of there. The binds just fell. Then...then they came in and told me that took less time then they expected."_

_He was afraid to look at her, afraid to see just how real the memory was._

_"Did you ever consider," Juliet began, quietly, as though taking care of the struggle he was having in dealing with these memories, "that sometimes dreams are just dreams? Maybe not all of what you remember is true."_

_He wanted to be hopeful, to believe her, but he didn't. He felt sick. He was disgusted, disturbed, by what he had seen and even more so at the fact that Juliet felt the need to lie about it._

_"It's not true."_

_Eyes drifting towards her, Jack scarcely allowed himself to have hope, still reluctant to believe even when he saw the sympathetic smile softly spreading across her face._

_"That never happened, I swear," Juliet continued. Her eyes searched his, as though looking for what would make him believe her. "I promise you Jack, nothing like that ever happened._

Jack looked up, chest rising and falling sharply. His eyes searched for Juliet but she would be long gone by now. She lied to him. He remembered. He had remembered before...

_Her eyes bore into his, bleeding tears of desperation. Arms thrown around the chair, wrist bound tightly, hands red, sweating. She could have spoken if she wanted, but she silently pleaded for his help; perhaps she was sympathetic. But all he could do was sit, his own wrist were locked in handcuffs attached to the sides of the chair he sat in. The room was empty, for all he knew the door wasn't locked. The computer station was vacant, the piano in the corner abandoned, wincing at the sounds of Juliet's frantic attempts to escape. He was supposed to help her. Somehow._

He had to help her.

He had to help her.

_His eyes locked into hers, falling into a trance without Jack himself realizing. Not until it was all over. He concentrated, somehow knowing what he had to do._

He had to help her.

_Suddenly one of Juliet's hands fell to her side. She gasped, shocked, shaken, staring at him. Then both their eyes traveled to her side as her hands fell, limp and swollen. His fist clenched, the bones so tense it felt as though his hand might be broken. And he realized: the handcuffs had fallen._

_The door to the building open. Zander, Dr. Campbell, and Alex walked in. Alex looked away, looked to the floor, did anything she could to avoid his eyes._

_"Nice job, Jack," Zander announced, as he headed towards the computer station. Alex walked towards Jack, eyes still glued to the ground. "About five minutes faster than I thought you would take."_

_When Alex helped him stand she was shaking more then he would; and Juliet, in the hands of Dr. Campbell as he helped her stand, shook more violently then Alex. Her frantic, stunned, breaths could be heard from across the room._

The memories shot at him like daggers swinging towards him. He looked down to where his fingers held the pages open. There was almost a quarter of the book left.

How many more times had this happened? What had they done to them?

His breaths shook with alarm, enough to keep him trapped with the same frantic thought all night:

What did _he_ do?


	28. Grains of Sand

Life Interrupted

Chapter Twenty-Eight

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: **Grains of Sand

He always felt like he should say something here, but all that spoke were the perfectly sketched letters carved into the stone. His father's name. _Christian Shephard._ Written in a professional cursive print, unwavering. He wondered if Locke wrote it. Jack tried to rememeber the last time the two spoke, the last time they really had a slightly human-like conversation. Without wanting to kill each other or discussing the best way to conduct a surprise attack against the Others. It must have been...way before Boone died. Almost a year ago.

Someone's foot snapped a twig in half nearby and the sound cracked the still afternoon air in half, like a ghost was teasing him just to get his attention. His head whipped around but all he saw was a flash of blonde curls dashing into the jungle. He stood, swiping the drying dirt beneath him with a hand as he pushed himself off the ground and chased Claire into the jungle, only calling her name once or twice before finding himself at the beach. Neither Claire nor her baby, or even Charlie, were in sight.

"Are you okay?"

He swirled around, caught off guard at Juliet's amused concerns.

"Yeah," he lied, "just looking for someone."

An uncertain smile lingered on her face, caught between searching for the truth and accepting his weird behavoir.

"Are you okay?" She asked again, slightly more serious this time. "You've been really quiet lately."

A twinge of guilt hit him and he thought of himself hidden away, burried in the book he secretly stole, that hid the answers to everyone else's questions.

"Yeah," he lied again, and shrugged to help his case, "sorry, I was just wanting to talk to someone."

"Kate?"

Juliet's eyes twinkled, expecting the name to be the next word out of his mouth. He froze, horrified that she knew something.

"You don't have to pretend," she encouraged with that same teasing voice and twinkle in her eye.

"Pretend what?" He asked casually; he was certain his nerves were slipping through, shaking his voice as he shifted feet.

"That you like her," Juliet replied. She winked at him. "Come on, I'm sure it was obvious from day one."

Jack laughed. For some reason he felt relieved, and it was a little easier to talk about, even though it shouldn't have been.

"Yeah, well maybe I was desperate then."

"Yeah right," Juliet rolled her eyes, "I think it's cute."

"Whatever."

He turned, beginning to walk away so that she wouldn't see the grin forming.

"Hey!" She called, grabbing his arm before he could get to far.

His grin faltered and he turned back to her casually.

"Yeah?"

"You don't have to be afraid."

Her voice was reassuring, soothing, and at first he wondered how it was she had nothing better to do than to worry about him and his relationships. But she was concered about him, and the fact that things still weren't going the way he wanted. At that moment, it was more obvious than ever that she truly didn't like him. For some reason that bothered him.

"You should talk to her," she explained.

"Yeah," he replied sharply, glancing away. He was beginning to get annoyed with the way she was offering him handfulls of hope that were as this as the grains of sand they were standing on. "Except for the fact that she's with a guy that would probably kill me with his bare hands the moment he saw me get anywhere close to her."

Juliet shrugged.

"Then maybe both of you should keep on pretending."

She turned away, hugging herself as though he actually hurt her. Jack shook his head. Turning, he hoped to find an escape that would let him forget her suggestion- and the odd pain that he felt from it. Instead his eyes found Kate and Sawyer, sitting together by the shore. Her smile illuminated with laughter against the sun, untouched by the world around her. A small smile developed of his own...

"Hey."

A rough hand grabbed him, forcing him to turn around to Charlie, who was glaring at him like he had just taken his guitar and thrown it into the ocean. He couldn't remember doing anything to offend him since...there wasn't ever anything. Jack stared at him, confused, waiting for Charlie to explain the anger riding on his voice and lighting up his eyes.

"Claire told me," Charlie hissed.

His heart began pounding but Jack remained silent, terrified of leading to the truth. What would happen if everyone knew?

Nothing...

Except maybe a bunch of judgements being made about him and his family. Everyone would expect him and Claire to start finishing each others sentences and talking about all their friends...and Charlie, he realized, would be taken out of the limelight.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He demanded.

"About what?" Jack tried, but he had already lost it.

"You know!"

"Claire told you?"

He wondered how long he could keep this going without the truth actually being spoken in detail. But his own anger was honest; of anything, he expected Claire to want to keep how disgracefully they were secretly releated hidden.

"Yeah she told me!" Charlie cried. "I found her last night crying in her tent and at first I thought someone died or something. Then I found out that you, with _wonderful_ timing, decided to tell her that you two were actually brother and sister! She went on to talk about how you blamed her for your parents divorce!"

"Only because she blamed me for ruining her childhood!"

He cut himself off, mouth falling shut rapidly in surprise. They stared at each other in disbelief, because neither of them actually wanted to admit it was all true until he himself told someone. It was real now. He would have to deal with this.

"You really upset her, Jack," Charlie went on, ignoring his argument, "and if this is going to bother her this much than you shouldn't come anywhere near us."

"You don't even know what you're talking about."

"I mean it!"

Charlie had already turned around and was heading back towards his tent, where he found Claire sitting outside. Aaron was in her lap and a cold glare stood in her eyes. She glanced over towards him and their eyes locked, unforgiving and hurt. She had to tell someone so that she could control the situation, make sure the story went like she wanted it to go. But none of it matter. Never would he have ever guessed he would find a reason to be betrayed by her, to hate her. He wasn't sure how his father planned to reunite his children and what he expected of their reactions- if he ever planned to tell them to begin with. But he was certain this wasn't it.

He shook his head and chanced a glance towards Kate. Sure enough their eyes connected, and his breath startled for a minute as she seemed to connect with him, telling him something. Like maybe she'd rather be there. Jack looked away, heading back to his tent before he set himself up for disappointment.

Once inside he felt cut off from the rest of the world and it was reassuringly satisfying. If he concetrated carefully enough the sound of the waves would cut off and it was only him standing in silence; the island didn't even have to exist.

But he suffered from too much of a burden that had taken up too much space in his mind to give in. His eyes found the tennis shoe that marked the hole he dug. Dropping to his knees he tore through the sand angrily, frustrated because he was irritated to just have to do the task. It was like giving into a drug. He would never be able to tear away, not until he read every last word of what happened to him, and even then he knew he would still be reeling with confusion and demanding answers. There would be nowhere to find them. But he couldn't concentrate on that problem now; now he had to satisfy his own addiction, the instinct that had been eating him for longer than he cared to admit: the need to have control. That was what reading the book did. It convinced him that he still had some control over what was happening to him.

So when his breath leaped and his chest began rising and falling at an unhealthily rapid speed, and when his stomach knotted with horror, it wasn't too much of a surprise. It was only reaction to the panic and fear of suffering a great loss when he looked down to find that the foot-deep hiding space was empty.

His tent was torn apart in minutes as he overturned suitcases and threw aside piles of clothes, determined that he might have forgotten that he found a new hiding place. It would make since: Claire had seen him reveal it...

Running his hands through the greasy sweat in his hair his eyes roamed around the tent in horror. Claire. She was the only one who would have known where to look. The secrets the book held, the stories of what happened to him, he didn't want anyone to know about. It wasn't even a question of waiting until he was ready to tell him. They could never know.

As he stormed towards where Claire and Charlie sat outside their tent fear stirred more and more violently within him as he considered all that he would lose if she kept telling these secrets. He had wanted to appear as normal as he always appeared to be. He wanted to be as trustworthy, as sincere, as ever. Just the fact that he had the book, let alone the information it held inside, would be enough for them to consider burning him at stake.

"Where is it?"

His shadow poured over Claire, who glanced up at him, startled and taken aback by the anger pounding through him. He didn't care; it encouraged him. He wouldn't let this turn into a drawn out battle between them.

"Where's what?"

She actually smiled, like they were two children stealing each others dolls or action figures; and he remembered that they were brother and sister it only made him feel more disugsted with her.

"Didn't I just tell you to leave her alone?" Charlie snapped.

Jack ignored him, never taking his eyes away from Claire. He was aware of the attention he was drawing around them: these people were drawn to fights like children were drawn to candy, and when he gave them an even more interesting store, that of what happened to him over the past nine months, they would cling to him even more.

"Where is it?" He demanded again.

A compass in his mind clicked. It was literally as though the question lit a spark in his mind that sent his eyes flashing towards the craddle behind Claire, where the sand was rough, uneven, and branded with fingerprints. The smiled lingered on his face and it was because she knew. He couldn't do anything about this right now. He had to turn around and his walk back to his tent would attract eyes like he had just slapped her. It was Claire; it would be like he was accusing Hurley of smashing Charlie's guitar. No one understood. That was clear as he turned, keeping his eyes glued to his shadow even as he passed Kate, because he didn't dare want to see the one hint of realization in her eyes that maybe she was wrong about him.

--

He couldn't bare to be in his tent that night. When he tried stepping inside he was received with confused eyes and the frowns of a child who didn't understand why they couldn't have what they wanted. He might as well have been walking past a mirror of his own disappointment. So he sat outside, cowering as close to his tent as possible so that he might be hidden by others, and the darkness surrounding his dying fire granted his wish. He stared before him, forced to take in the fact that he never felt so isolated in his life. He was fighting a hundred battles on his own and every hint of victory was met with more bloodshed.

"Jack?"

He was too surprised to erase his vaccant eyes and replace them with anger. He couldn't even think of a way to dismiss her.

"What?" He mumbled instead.

His glance offered him enough of an explanation. Claire stood above him, clutching the book in shaking hands like it held the secret to her life. He turned away, but even as he did he caught the tears in her eyes. She landed beside him with a sickening thud that echoed to him, trying to pull him away from the world of his own he was trying to escape back to.

"This book?" Her bottom lip was trembling madly and shaking her words in a pathetically desperate swirl. "This is the truth?"

"Yeah."

He glared at her, making sure she saw the anger in his eyes.

"Ready to go write a front page story over it?" He shot.

She only melted further into the sand and burst into tears, trembling so much that the doctor within him couldn't help but to worry.

"What?" He sighed.

She managed to open the book without it collapsing to a close, and he saw that a couple of shaking fingers had been holding a particular date closed. A twitch of dread flickered within him, but it lit up when she opened her mouth- to read it outloud.

"Don't-"

"'December 31st 2004,'" she began; he was surprised she could read with water dancing so frantically in her eyes and the book shaking in her hands, just counting the moments until it would fall, "'subject begins experiencing side affects to previously admistered test dated December 2nd. Reactions late, but possible sign that the results are positive.'"

He sighed dramatically; he hadn't even gotten this far in reading.

"Where's this going?"

"Side affects include rash and high fever,'" Claire continued, raising her voice, demanding his attention, "then, 'January 1st, 2005, fever down, rash disappeared in morning.'" She looked at him, her eyes brimming with horror. "Don't you see?"

"I see that I was spending my New Year's Eve suffering from an annoying rash and a fever that I don't even remember."

The remark, if possible, make her eyes grow even deeper with tears.

"Aaron, Jack!" She cried. "Remember? Aaron had the same rash and the same fever, even at the same time!"

"That doesn't mean anything, Claire," Jack said, honestly bringing his tone down to a more sympathetic level. He even felt guilty, knowing that this was now about her son. "It could just be a coincidence. Do you know how many people on this island have had rashes and fevers?"

"Obviously not!" Claire exclaimed. "They did something to him!"

"Lots of babies have rashes and fevers."

"Lots of babies weren't kidnapped on a strange island!" Her eyes were almost boiling now with tears, and in frustration she grabbed the bottom of her shirt. "Look!"

She lifted her shirt just enough to reveal a stomach stained with a few lingering scars from needles. Jack looked away, feeling sick at the sight, and his face grow hot as he thought of similiar bruises staring out at them from his arm.

"Whatever they did to you they were trying to do to him," Claire said, her voice now hushed, "something could be happening to him now and I might not ever know. What if he turns out different? What if something's wrong with him and I could have stopped it?"

Jack shook his head, wishing desperately that she would stop suggesting what he feared the most. And it wasn't just that something was wrong with Aaron.

"What are you saying?" He asked, wanting nothing more than to hear her answer.

"I have to go back. I have to go back and find out what happened to my son."

Looking away, he couldn't even fight to hide the dread settling in the lines of his face. Life at the beach frustrated him, but the thought of returning to the scene of the crime terrified him. And the thought of never returning after that scared him into silence. He thought of leaving for the other side of the island almost a year ago and acknowledging the possibility of getting into trouble but never really believing it. The shock of his life being ripped away from him like that was enough to leave him clinging to any last taste of freedom he could find, and he wasn't going to be able to hold onto that as he walked through the city limits of the Others' camp. Living here was turning into isolation- even his relationship with Kate was something hidden and rarely brought to surface. But living there, the risk of losing his freedom again...he had always been all for supporting others and working to make sure their needs were met and concerns were taken care of, but now things were so different. He was different.

"I can't go back."

He forced himself to look at her, and tears were in both of their eyes as she glared at him. How ironic, he thought, that the last person he let down like this was his father. But he knew he was right. He couldn't put himself in that kind of danger. He couldn't put Claire in that kind of danger.

"Please, Jack."

Her voice was muffled by tears but he still couldn't bring himself to sympathsize with her. Tears swelled like wildfire in her eyes, and with a swirl of anger she stood up and spun around towards the forest. She marched towards the darkness with the book in her hands.

"Wait."

It only took the sound of her footsteps retreating towards the place he feared the most to push himself off the ground, catching up with her before she got too far. She watched him impatiently, and her frustration began to pass to him. Neither could get what they wanted; their entire lives had been like that.

"Don't go, please," he begged quietly, meeting her eyes.

She shook her head; her soft, wounded, tone was sincere.

"I have to go for my son," she said again, "I have to know what's happening to him."

Again she turned away from him, and his hear lept, a million fears jumping through firery hoops within him. It was then that it hit him: she and Aaron were the closest he had to a family here, and having family meant being connected. They were connected rather they liked it or not, and a new sensation of determination roared through him as the idea hit him that he was supposed to go with her. Part of him was telling himself that he had to protect her. The other part was telling himself that never would he allow her to enter that darkness by herself anyway.

"Then I'll go with you," he agreed. Fear still left him feelin reluctant, but the light of hope flickering in her eyes was catching up with him. "But we should at least wait until morning; we can't go through the jungle at night."

"Nobody will miss us at night," she pointed out.

Jack looked away, sighing, his eyes trailing towards Kate's tent. He thought of her waking up in the morning to find him and Claire gone. He thought of her having to relive the panic and fear she was only now letting herself let go of. How could he do that to her?

"It's still early," Claire went on, "by the time they realize we're gone they'll spend half the morning searching back and forth at our different camps."

His eyes traveled away again, lingering over the camp that would be illuminated with worry and fear in a few hours. He looked back at Claire.

"Maybe we can leave them a note," he suggested lightly.

Claire laughed.

"And yeah, tell them what? That I'm going across the island to see if there's something wrong with my son based from a book that you stole from the Others?"

"I didn't steal it."

"No, you just set our prisoner free so he could go get it for you," Claire replied darkly with a manipulative twinkle in her eye, "do you really want to explain all that to them?"

Sighing, he closed his eyes and ran a hand over his head. He would have to explain it to them anyway. Honestly, he didn't know which way would make them hate him more.

"Fine," he agreed, "I'll go with you, but under one condition." His eyes fell on the book still in her hands; he was drooling sweat down his face in desperation of having those secrets back in his possession. "You give me that book back."

"Fine."

Claire slammed the book into his chest, glaring at him as he stepped away, feeling defeated even though he didn't know why. He only sighed, and added:

"I'll go get my stuff."

--

Another leaf tore underneath his fingers, leaving his fingertips feeling soggy and callused. Along with its limb it fell to the ground; the trail followed him as he led Claire through the jungle. The silence between them betrayed the thousands of questions and accusations left unspoken between them, and it was only when they were burried into the darkness of the jungle that he found one that might not lead to a fight.

"I guess you're why he went to Australia," he commented, "at least that makes sense now."

"Oh, so you're blaming me for his death now?" Claire shot.

"No, I still blame myself for that."

He could feel his confession slam between them and he was almost glad of it; he could practically feel the sympathy surfacing within her. It was about time she understood something. At the same time, he had never spoken those words to anyone.

"What happened between you two?" She asked softly, with honest sincerity as she carefully touched on an obviously delicate subject.

"We're not close enough for you to know that story."

Kate didn't even know.

"How did he die?"

Claire's voice was small and broken. He swallowed, realizing that he was talking about her father. Her father was dead too. He didn't know how to answer her, and there wasn't a way he could think of that wouldn't force him to admit to the whole story.

"I have the right to know," Claire declared, "rather you like it or not, he was my father too."

He sighed. He couldn't argue with her; it was a fact that they would have to somehow learn to live with. He would also learn to live with having to share his childhood with her, and he just wasn't ready to tell those stories.

"He died of a heartattack," he admitted, and immediately continued walking.

"What happened?" He knew she would still asked questions, and he decided that silence and further anger between them was better than actually admitting the whole truth. "Jack."

She grabbed his arm and spun him around. Her eyes were sharp and angry, but she swallowed as though terrified of learning what she wasn't sure she wanted to know. His story repeated over and over again in his head as he thought of the fight between him and his father and the months of silence following. He thought of flying to Australia and finding out that his father turned up dead in an alley after suffering a heart attack. There was one obvious reason why the attack happened. Him.

"You want to know about our father?" He began slowly, already furious. "He was an alcoholic. Always had been. He was mad at the world and took it out on me and my mother. No wonder they separated. So yeah, you're family isn't the only one that's messed up. I was sent across the world to find him in Australia. Guess he was disappointed in one kid and figured he could run to the other. Maybe he realized that you were the one he should have stuck with all along."

"Why are you talking like this?" Her eyes searched his, horrified.

"Because it's the truth."

He spun around, leaving her in silence.

"But Jack...there has to be more. Please, tell me." He ignored her, feeling his eyes grow weary with the threat of tears and the anger boiling inside him. "He's my father too and I want to know what happened to him! I have a right to know! Jack!"

Her shouts turned into a sudden scream, drown out and horrified as she slipped away from him. He turned around to see her fallen to the ground, her hand wrapped around her left ankle. Her screams pierced the night as he rushed to her, and he couldn't help but to be left shaken as he tried to remove her hand from her foot. Her leg was caught in a hole; a sharp cut tore through the bruise and oddly shaped ankle. Tears ran down her cheeks through closed eyelids, and she was soon gasping for air as her screams grew more and more desperate.

"Stay calm," he told her; he tried to move her fingers but the more he tried the tighter she held on, "let me see it."

"No!"

She squeezed her eyes shut, biting down the pain and then screaming again when it became to much.

"You'll be okay, but I need to see..."

He reached behind him with a free hand and grabbed his back, where he found a few clean towels.

"I need to stop the bleeding." He tried to catch her eye but she kept shutting out the tears, pushing harder and harder against the pain as she tried to block it all out. "Claire, look at me. Claire!"

Her eyes snapped open and met his, dripping with tears. Slowly her fingers slipped away, shaking as they did along with her rapid breath.

"That's good," he commented, "just calm down, you're okay."

Two of his fingers landed gently on the bone of her ankle, and if the feeling of the clearly ruined muscle beneath wasn't enough to leave him taken aback then the realization that hit him when their eyes met again was. There kept being these moments when he realized they were related, when it hit him that he was with his sister.

"You'll be okay," he told her again, "we need to stop the bleeding."

"Jack-"

Her voice was weak but he still caught her eyes trailing to where he had already placed the towel. When he lifted up the cloth there was barely a scratch of blood. Heart pounding, horrified, he shifted his fingers again to her ankle. The stabbing bone set out of place had shifted; the intensity on the scene rested only on the new horrifying realization that was hitting both of them.

"It's okay," Claire whispered, a little shaken but with eyes wide with amazment, "it doesn't really hurt anymore."

He looked at her again and her eyes widened even more, now with horror, as though she just met eyes with a monster.

"Oh my God," she crawled away; her ankle seemed to be no trouble to her, "you just healed me."

"What?" His heart was pounding too rapdily; his mind rushed in a tornado of fear and denial. "No, no, it just wasn't as bad as I thought."

"No, it was bad," Claire breathed, "and then...it wasn't. Oh my God."

"No-"

"I know what you can do." He stopped, staring at her, terrified. More people knew. It only meant his secret, the secret that made him so terrifyingly different- different from others and different from who he used to be- was becoming closer and closer to gaining full exposure. And she knew. She wouldn't understand... "Why do you think I trust you to lead me to the other side of the island in the dark? I read the book, Jack, and it's amazing."

"No, it's...terrifying."

There. He admitted it. But saying it out loud only made the horror real. She felt it too. He could see it in her eyes that couldn't stand still, that danced around like she accidently discovered the cure for cancer. But the cure was worse than the disease. He sank to his knees, his head falling to his hands.

"I don't want this," he muttered, "I'd never want this."

He looked up, his eyes wondering to the clear night sky above him. He wanted to turn back now, go back to the beach, hide away, and pretend like none of this ever happened. The more he pretened, surely, the more likely it was that he could convince himself this wasn't real.

"Let's just go," Claire spoke up quietly.

He nodded and got to his feet. He felt just as uncomfortable talking to her as she did with him. She didn't understand him. The only thing she understood was that she didn't want her son to turn out like him. And at last, there was something they could agree on.

--

His heart pounded as his head spun, trying to focus on the familiarity of a place he was sure he'd never been to before. Claire lingered behind him, the night's journey beginning to take its toll as his eyes darted around. But all he saw was dark jungle.

"Something wrong?" Claire asked wearily.

He didn't answer. He felt as though he were being pulled towards something, but his stumbling only drew a concerned face from Claire, and he himself was beginning to wonder...maybe he was going crazy.

Until he locked eyes with two trees bent into a V-shape. A hollow center stared back at him like a bull's eye, and the memory flashed back as he stepped towards it.

_He was being chased. Glancing behind him, almost losing his balance with each step. He had no idea how weak he'd gotten._

_"Jack!"_

_He could hear her voice but he didn't know where she was. He fumbled with something in his hands, a piece of paper, and then darted forward. Reaching through limp vines his hands easily found the door, which pushed open with little force._

"Jack?"

Snapping away, he faguely became aware of Claire calling for him. He stepped forward, unable to turn away from what he now understood. He found the door too easily and pushed it open. Lights flickered on just as he even thought of searching for a switch, and they stopped.

The room was stocked with computers. They lined the middle in two rows; old, light grey computers that were popular years ago. Dust was visable along the edges and clogged the monitors. The room felt as abandoned as it looked, with the tables lining the walls bare and the air looming around them like blood clotting an open wound.

"What is this place?"

Claire's voice sounded hollow as the door behind them jumped shut. Their hearts lept, but his attention was quickly grabbed by sense of familiarity still pounding within him.

_He was barely aware of the computers there, waiting. Instead he raced towards the a tall cabinet in the back. It stood against the wall, a brown plastic wardrobe that looked like it might be an oversized filing cabinet. The handle was wary with age, and as he shifted the lock out of place desperately it loosened like it might fall off. There was a creak and he hopped inside like a kid playing hide and go seek. That's what he was doing, he thought as his breath haulted to a rapid stop and his eyes darted around the room that stood empty, but waiting, as the computers had been. He was running and hiding. But ultimately, the game always ended with being found._

The present sank back in slowly. He still felt like he was being chased; instinct still told him to go towards the cabinet. It was the 'X' he had been following, it was a sole reason for taking this trip. The handle had been ripped off, he realized as he drew closer, and thrown to the side like an animal was searching for its prey. Had they found him? There was a hole where the handle used to be, just big enough to reach in with a finger and pry the cabinet open.

His heart began pounding harder at the sight of the empty cabin, as though something within him had been expecting to see something there. But there was only a wiff of dust that sent him into a coughing fit. When he forced his eyes opened he found himself staring at the floor of the cabinet.

A silent cry of triumph left him. There was what he must have held in his hands that day: a worn piece of paper torn from the book.

His 'X marks the spot' metaphor had been all too accurate.

The paper was a map. Incomprehinsible lines circled around the page like the artist had been channeling a spirit. There were child-like scratches erasing mistakes, but carefully drawn boxes pointed out names like 'cell' and 'office'. The writing itself was perfectly scripted, written in case the map fell into a stranger's hand. From the 'office' a short line was drawn to 'the key'.

It all sounded so familar.

"None of the computers work," Claire announced, "the wires are ripped up."

Quickly he stuffed the map into one of his pockets and looked up. Claire was leaning over a monitor, holding up a mess of wires cut in half. Jack looked around, spotting right away a machine that denied her.

"Not this one," he pointed out, walking closer.

The screen wasn't as dusty either. A drawer was built into the table the compuer sat on, and the silver of the handle was still a mirror. He checked the wiring. It was all perfectly in place. When his fingers found the 'on' button it felt like he was dealing with newly discovered technology; as familiar as the room felt to him its contents were something that hadn't been apart of his life for months. The computers were newer than the one from the hatch, but he couldn't help wondering if he was opening a similiar door.

He slid the drawer open to reveal a collection of CDs. They were in clear cases and were all labeled as numbers: "23", "28", "18". He stopped. "32A". "32B".

The desperation to touch familiarity stopped. These CDs had something to do with the experiments, and he had to understand what he didn't know. Claire was right, it was an addiction. But it was an understandble addiction. Kind of...

He heard her call his name as trembling fingers opened up the "32A" CD and pressed for the disk drive to open. When the computer hesitated to load his finger punched the button again, never ceasing until he could finally place the disk inside and waited. Anxious breaths filled the hollow room. The screen blinked and then slowly came to life, revealing a smaller screen ready to play a video.

"February first, 2005."

It was the doctor's voice. The camera zoomed in to reveal the room he knew from his memories, with its piano in the back left corner and a station with a similiar computer on the near right wall.

In the center of the room sat he and Juliet, across from each other. Juliet's hands were bound by handcuffs to a chair, mirroring his own situation. They were alone. They were afraid; Juliet was terrified. But he knew...he had to be the one to save them. He knew he was petrified.

His chest rose and fell rapidly; worry pounded against the walls of his head because for that moment, he forgot how the scene tore out. Then their handcuffs broke and the door opened.

"What is this?"

Claire's voice covered up the dialogue, and as though the clip was offended by being interrupted, it shut off. He was left staring at his own panicked reflection in the monitor.

"Jack?" She asked; he heard her stepped closer out of concern, but he also heard the fear of him.

In seconds he had taken the CD out and started loading the next one. "32B". He had to know where the experiment had gone next; he had to know what Juliet was hiding from him.

"We should go," Claire said, placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to lead him away.

He shook his head and offered nothing more. The disk began to load.

The screen snapped to black. A familiar green light blinked against a black background, waiting for someone to type. Within seconds, they did.

_Who is this?_

Claire glanced towards him and he panicked. He took the disk out, shut the computer down.

"We have to get out of here."

"Yeah, that's what I was saying!"

As the monitor smashed back to being a darken mirror his reflection echoed his actions as he grabbed handfuls of the CDs and stuffed them into his backpack, until the drawer was empty and his pack weighed twice what it did when he entered the room. With the map holding its own past in his pocket he felt like the world had crashed down on top of him.

He followed Claire out the door, feeling out of breath as panic took over him.

"We have to go back," he breathed.

"No!" Claire cried, looking at him desperately. "Aaron!"

He hated her again at that moment, but he couldn't bring himself to argue with her.

"Then we better hurry," he said, "because it won't take them long to find out that nobody was supposed to be at that station."

He led Claire back into the jungle, selecting a less taken path that was overgrown with arms of black trees. Regret slammed into him with every tree branch they ran through. They tore through the path, afraid to stop, even as he was remembering that he was running towards what he feared the most.

--

A soft blue-black sky was fading in above them; his heart raced, knowing with every step he was getting closer to entering Their camp. He also knew any moment now someone at the camp would wake up and discover they were gone. Claire hadn't spoke a word to him since he suggested going back to the beach, and he couldn't fathom a single conversation topic. He didn't know what would be too personal, what would lead she wouldn't want him to know. He didn't know her. Even though they met almost a year ago every glance towards her way was like he was laying eyes on a stranger. He didn't know where she grew up or what she did for a living. He didn't eve know when her birthday was.

What he did notice was that the closer morning came to dawning the heavier Claire's footsteps were becoming. Her sharp, rapid, breaths were like sirens roaring through the jungle, and he didn't know if she wasn't stopping for the sake of not dealing with him or for her son.

"We should rest," he suggested.

As he slowed to a stop he could feel himself quickly growing a liking to the idea, and when Claire shook her head he admited to himself the dread he felt at having to pursue another few hours journey across the island.

"We haven't stopped all night," he pointed out, "Claire..."

He grabbed her arm and forced her to face him.

He stopped.

Her eyes were drawn and watery; pale skin seemed to hang from her cheekbones as sweat poured over drying teartracks. How had he not noticed that she had been crying? Throwing a disapproving glare his way she threw her backpack down before sinking to the ground herself.

"Here," she muttered, handing him some water.

He took it without arguing while she drew her knees to her chest, letting her head drop to her arms. Her fingers trembled and clung to her sides; this time he knew she was crying.

"Hey," he said quietly; he knelt down beside her a placed a hand on her shoulder, "it will be okay."

"No."

The whisper was broken as she lept up, tears pouring as she grabbed her bag.

"Claire-"

She spun around, glaring at him with accusing eyes, enough to make him believe this was his fault.

"Every minute I stop is another minute that I have to worry about my son and wonder if something's wrong with him."

Their eyes met, leaving him shaken by the helpless gleam in hers.

"Then let's stop wasting time," he announced.

She turned quietly, leading the way without explaning how her feet knew exactly where to go.

--

Whispers. Kate stirred, her body reluctant to leave the void of silence she had grown accustomed to over night. As her eyes blinked open she saw that it was still dark, but somewhere in that darkness had to lay the voices that woke her. Stretching her arm out, she felt nothing but a drop of sand.

She hurried out into a soft mid morning light to see that a scene had started without her. Not too far away Sayid was holding a crying Emma by the shoulders while Charlie paced the ground nearby. Sawyer stood not too far from them. Attracted by her presence his eyes found hers, accusing as she was obviously being left in the dark.

"What happened?" She said, rushing up to them.

"Go back to sleep," Sawyer muttered.

"No!"

Her eyes grew wild as she realized the sympathy in everyone's eyes around her. Including his.

"What happened?" She repeated, her eyes glued angrily to Sawyer's.

"Jack and Claire are missing."

Flashing her eyes towards Charlie she stepped towards him, setting aside the obvious frustration in his voice. There was more to the story, she knew, remembering seeing both Jack and Charlie and Jack and Claire arguing the day before.

"What do you mean they're missing?"

She wrapped her arms around herself, beginning to shiver in the cold. She hadn't really woken up yet. Too many things were wrong with this. It was too early for this...

She couldn't go through with this again.

"Emma, what happened?" Sayid said, calmly, as though he had already tried getting the answer out of the child many times.

"I don't know!" Emma cried, tears pouring down her cheeks. Her brother stood closely to Juliet nearby. Juliet looked like she would breakdown the moment she was out of the kids' sight. "I just woke up, and he hadn't come inside yet. It was really late. Then I came out here, and he was out here, panicking-"

She pointed to Charlie, who was running frantic fingers through his hair. His footsteps pounded against the dawn, his anger radiating to them in confusing amounts.

She could feel herself wanting to cry. Anything except having to hold it in and make the rational decisions that they were already looking at her to make. Sayid's eyes fell on her, wonering what she would do. He swallowed, speaking up when she couldn't:

"Locke's cheking for tracks," he explained.

Kate spun around, eyes landing on Jack's tent. Locke was bent down beside the door, never moving as she ran up to him. She felt the wind as Sawyer rushed to keep up with her.

"What did you find?" She demanded.

"Well they weren't taken."

But she didn't feel relieved as Locke stood, brushing sand off his hands.

"What do you mean they weren't taken?" Sawyer snapped.

"I mean there's no sign of struggle," Locke said, waving his hands around the crime scene, "and the only set of footprints leaving the tent are Jack's, Emma's, and Zach's. Plus his bag's gone."

"What?"

Pushing past Locke she forced her way into the tent. The emptiness of it caught in her throat. Her eyes landed on where he showed her he hid the book, and she wondered if that was with him. But as promised, his bag was gone. There wasn't a sign that he had been in there all not.

"What does this mean?" Kate wondered outloud under a hushed breath.

"Maybe he went for a walk," Sawyer suggested, "he could have gotten lost."

"He wouldn't have gotten lost!"

"Hey, he hasn't been around for awhile."

"Then why is Claire gone?"

She hated how frantic she sounded; she never understood how Jack could get away with pretending like he wasn't bothered by what went on around him.

"She has a point," Locke said, "maybe someone caught them in the jungle. Forced them to go."

Her stomach twisted at the thought. She shuddered at how easy it sounded...

But it shouldn't have been that easy. Jack wouldn't have let it happened. She'd seen it before...

"No," she shook her head, "it's something else." Her eyes met with Locke. "We have to go after them."

"It's not even light yet!" Sawyer argued. "How the hell are you going to find their trail? You don't even know where he's going!"

"No, but I know where they might take them."

She turned, not wanting to hear his protests. It was something she didn't want to have to do, but she knew Jack wouldn't have wanted to go either.

Sawyer grabbed her arm.

"Hey," he hissed as she jerked away from his grip, "you're not going back there."

"Yeah, I am."

She met his eyes and could feel guilt beginning to boil as she worried the last thing that might happen to them would be a fight. The others' eyes were on her too, but she knew that they were only not admitting what she knew they had to do.

"I'm going too," Charlie announced.

They all looked at him, but his eyes were cold and pierced red with anger. There would be no arguing with either of them. Tearing her eyes away, she looked down.

"I'll see you later," she muttered, and turned towards Charlie, who began to follow her up the beach.

"Wait!"

Sawyer had already reached her by the time she turned around. He didn't look angry, he looked determined.

"I'm going too," he explained, and grinned, "I have to be there to make sure you and Jack don't kiss and make up when you find him."

A sad smile on her face she shook her head, dismissing his attempt to make her feel better. She couldn't drag him into this. One man she cared about was already out there. Plus Sawyer wouldn't understand...she couldn't tell him why losing Jack hurt her so much. It was the same reason she refused to admit the last time he disappeared. But now she was ready, and she knew...

"I'll be fine," she said, and leaned up, forcing herself to kiss him.

She turned away, as soon as her lips left his. He didn't want him to see that she was more hurt than he was.

--

Her eyes were glued to the ground as their feet grew closer and closer towards the interior of the island. Neither said a word. They were an odd couple; Charlie wouldn't have normally been the one that would be going on a hike with her unless he volunteered. But she understood what he was going through and he understood her. The silence was all they needed to consult each other with.

She had grown too close to Jack too quickly. So quickly that she didn't know what to do about it. They couldn't move forward, they couldn't continue what they started while she was letting another part of her life drag behind. She refused to look at herself as that kind of person and she didn't want him to become that way either. Sawyer would never recover if she left him, and he would never let her and Jack not be apart of his life. And because he wanted them to stay friends. Everything would change...everything that had finally found its place together would fall apart. And they were stuck here. It wasn't like she could move into another city. Sawyer would be within a walk's distance from her at all times. Always there, always reminding her...

Just like Jack was now.

"Kate!"

She jumped, turning, surprised at Sayid's voice.

"Glad to see that you've so reluctantly decided to come," Charlie muttered without even turning around.

"Someone had to be here to make sure you two didn't kill each other," Sayid said, flashing Kate a reassuring smile.

She returned it, only feeling half of the hope he meant to give her. This trip was becoming too familar.

"I can't say that it's nice to be back," Sayid said as he caught up with her.

"Why did you come, really?"

She eyed him curiously, because somehow she knew that no one else would suddenly pop out of the bushes and join them.

"Having a third person might be useful."

He glanced her way just to prove that he could lie while meeting her eye. Rather he didn't think they could handle it emotionally or he was afraid to find trouble of their own, either way she began to feel uncomfortable by his side as her thoughts stayed with Jack and Sawyer, wondering what Jack would think when she turned up to rescue him and what Sawyer would think when she returned. And any time there was silence between them she couldn't help but to want to go to the one person that would talk to her.

But being back on these trails flashed images of Sawyer sitting beside her, listening to her as she ranted and cried, knowing that her need for him had nothing to do with him. He went with every search party just to be there with her, making himself a part of her and taking on her burdens. And he cared too, even if he only admitted it with silent regret.

Hours passed and the trail became more and more familiar to her. Memories flashed and she saw herself in a place much darker than she was now, and her stomach twisted at the thought of being in that place again. A few time she felt Sayid place a hand on her shoulder, as though steadying her from falling, but she knew he was really reminding that he was there for her.

Eventually she noticed the pattern. The larger leafs, resting on slightly higher branches, had been placed on the ground carefully with every foostep. It was the path she followed without telling anybody; she caught Sayid following her eyes every now and then anyway. Until it stopped. Until the footprints barely embedded in the drying mud came to a stop. They were in a clearing, centered in the jungle for a reason but when she looked around she saw nothing but land that mirrored what was left behind her. It would stay that way for a good few hours more and then change completely...there would be no similarities at all. But here, she knew something was wrong. The trail stopped and started again a few feet away, as the clearing turned into a mess of trees.

"They stopped here," Sayid announced.

"When did you guys find their trail?" Charlie demanded.

So it was confirmed that Sayid knew what she did, and he also realized what she knew had to have happened.

"It speeds up," Kate said, following the scurrying footprints, breathing harshly as she felt their fear, "they were being chased. They ran into there."

She pointed at the mess of jungle; there obviously wasn't even a path to follow.

"There's nothing there!" Charlie exclaimed. "It's suicide going through there! They can't have known where they're going!"

"And neither could They," Sayid pointing out, his eyes narrowing.

Carefully he led them towards the blanket of jungle. He tore off a tree branch that failed in clearing the path from their eyes. Leafs and thorns stabbed at them, blocking her vision and making her grown anxious. The jungle was thick and dark, but not as dark as it would have been last night. They must have been terrified...

"There!"

Her heart lept. She had been searching the opposite side of them as Sayid, who was making his way beneath arms of trees. He pulled out a black backpack that pierced her with familiarity.

"That's Jack's."

Her voice was shaken and her hands trembled as she took the pack from Sayid. Immediately something fell towards the ground. Sayid caught it.

"It's a CD," Charlie whispered.

Eyes widening, she caught the codes that made no sense to her: 32A, 42B. But Jack could have known exactly what they meant...

She caught sight of the book just as Sayid began to turn the page.

"Don't read it!" She snapped, grabbing it from him. "It's his, okay?"

"Then where did he get these?" He asked, waving to the disk that were pouring towards a tear in the side of the bag.

Kate frowned, lifting the torn seams up. She barely saw it, and if she had looked away she probably wouldn't have been able to find the blood again. But sinking into part of the seams was a tiny stream of blood, enough to send an endless stream of possibilities running through her mind. She held the bag up, showing it to Sayid.

"We have to find them," she whispered, eyes threatening to swell with tears as she looked up to Sayid.

Holding onto the torn side with her arm, she raised the backpack to her shoulder.

"Don't worry."

They spun around. Her heart was beating out of control; she could feel her breath weakening, fear rising...

Richard Aplert was standing in front of them.

"He's fine."

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews!! I'm sooo sorry it took so long!! I'll try my best to write faster!!

Until next time...

October Sky


	29. Genetics

Life Interrupted

Chapter Twenty-Nine

**Chapter Twenty-Nine:** Genetics

"Where do you think it is?"

Claire was bursting with questions- none of which trailed into his family. He felt relieved, the tension between them stuck out like an air of smoke between them, and he could see the attempts to freeze her emotions as her eyes sat determined on the ground.

Nevertheless, Jack sighed. All the questions, however, did have to do with his captivity and what he knew of the others.

"I don't know." She was beginning to restate the questions in dozens of different ways, trying to catch his lie. This time he honestly wasn't lying. "I'll just have to get there and see what I can make of all of it."

"You've been acting like all of these...experiments are top secret. Do you think all of them even know about it?"

"I don't think so."

That was a lie. Not everyone knew that was going on, that was obvious from his first memories of captivity. They would all act authoritatively, but the usual anger and vengeance in their eyes was absent. They were acting on orders without explanation.

There was a pause, so abrupt that he turned and looked at her. Her forehead creased into lines of uncertainty as her eyes danced back and forth, debating her next question. She refused to look at him; even before with her questions she wouldn't dare take her eyes off the ground. Now she swallowed, looking afraid.

"Was he really an alcoholic?"

The question pierced him, and his eyes flashed to her. She looked as though she wanted nothing more than to be able to sink in the ground, to cower away from his gaze. Her hands gripped the straps of her backpack; she swallowed again.

So did he. The question meant so much. She had been thinking about him. As much as she wanted to deny the idea of them being related, she had been thinking about their father. She was curious, and who could blame her? But she also hadn't liked what she had been told, and who could blame her for that either? He quickly realized that he had the cursed role in this relationship. He was the one with the father who abandoned her, who even with the family he stayed with wasn't always the most respectable man.

"Yes," he admitted quietly, feeling sick.

"Are you?"

A grin escaped him. Of course. He was also the son of the man who abandoned her, and she would assume that he looked up to him, worshipped him, wanted to become him. She really didn't know anything.

"No."

An air of amusement brushed against his words and she smiled, just slightly, when she realized how insane the idea was to him.

"Are you?" He challenged, more casually than intensely.

"No," Claire replied, her voice much lighter than before, "I went through my rebellious phase a few years ago."

"Really?"

He realized he was still grinning, and her smile grew wider too.

"Yeah," she said, "I had black hair and everything."

Jack was honestly surprised; Claire was grinning like mad. It obviously wasn't something she told to just everybody. He just couldn't picture her blonde, lighthearted and accepting(to most) as someone determined to act out against the crowd. She was always so quiet, so drawn away from everything. A hand reached up, replacing a loose blonde strand back behind her ear.

"Really?" He said, laughing.

"Yeah," she said, stressing her confession, "I worked at a tattoo shop." She glanced at his arm, and the irony hit them both. "I never understood the Chinese ones, though."

"So you never knew what you were writing on people's skin?"

"Oh, I just did the piercings."

Jack laughed again, feeling a little more comfortable as Claire's face lit up, both embarrassed and excited at finally letting go of the secret. Then she shook her head.

"I don't work there anymore though," she said, her enthusiasm quickly dying, "now I'm stuck-"

"Shh!"

He closed his eyes and he could see him and Juliet running, fleeing away from the bank of trees before him.

His eyes snapped open. He was breathing hard.

"Jack?" She asked, concerned.

"This is it."

He stepped forward, wincing at every sound his feet made, scrapping against the ground. Carefully, so carefully he was surprised anything came of it, he pulled back the twigs and branches of the trees ahed.

The production part of their village was straight ahead. There were the old buildings, rotting and sinking with age. The ground was made of dying grass and mulch from construction. There were a couple of outside cages that he couldn't remember. In fact, as he searched around, he couldn't remember any of it. The three main buildings stared back at him: one that looked like it could have been made of steel that was narrow and raced backwards into the woods behind it, a taller one, slightly newer looking, with a couple of spaces for dirty windows, like an old hotel, and a short, almost claustrophobic one standing in the distance, white on the outside. The newest one. His mind kept him locked on that one; his heart continued racing, anxiety sweeping through him, pulling him away even as his mind said no.

But still he didn't know what was so special about the place.

"I don't remember this," Claire said, frustrated, "what I remember was more open...like being in the middle of a field."

Jack shook his head.

"I hardly remember being outside at all."

The only times he could remember were when he was able to talk to Kate and his and Juliet's escape. Claire looked away, like she was feeling out of place, and he knew it was up to him. He was supposed to know what to do. He drew in a breath and began to step through the threes.

"Wait!" Claire cried, grabbing his arm. "You're just going to walk in there."

"Yeah."

He told himself not to be afraid.

_Nothing's going to happen. Nothing's going to happen._

Yet with every footstep he felt like he might fall apart from shaking. He could barely keep his thoughts straight, and he wondered if that would affect his...abilities. He hated using that word.

_Just leave us alone._

And no one came. There was no one in the windows, there was no one keeping guard. He followed his mind towards the white building; he could feel Claire's scared breaths hitting him. She was clutching his backpack, almost holding him back. Only a few feet away, he could see there was a single control panel to the building. No door-handle. It didn't even look like there was a door.

"Maybe there's a back entrance," Claire whispered.

Jack shook his head and began to approach the door quickly, anxious to get out of the center of the camp. Claire hurried behind him and lingered not an inch from him as he placed his hand over the panel.

_7,5,3,5,9,..._

He punched the numbers in quickly; his eyes grew wide, stunned as the information came to him. There was a click and the door creaked opened. Claire held onto his arm as they stepped inside.

He remembered the color. It was a blinding white, illuminating by the lights that lay in strips across the ceiling. The walls were bare, the floors were of the same never-ending brightness. The piano sat in the corner to the left of the wall. There was a chair in the middle of the room; wires fell around it, ready to bring to life various heart machines. Against the far wall awaited a station of computers, and surely this was was where the files would be. There was nothing else in the room...

He looked around. He caught Claire moving towards the piano, as though it were something extinct that was brought back to life in this room.

"There's a piano in here..."

Jack sighed, ignoring her.

Where was the camera? The videos from the CDs were from this room, but there was nothing. And he didn't remember there being a camera sitting in front of him.

"Let's just get the files and get out of here," he muttered.

Physically he moved toward the computers but mentally his mind was racing, trying to take it all in and shove it away at the same time. In here were all the answers he wanted. But being in here made it real; all of it. The memories, the files, the tapes...part of him was still convinced it was fake. But this was real.

Behind the computer desk were shelves stocked from the floor to the ceiling of the desk. There was a small security panel at the top of each set of filing cabinets, along with an organization system: A-K; L-S; T-Z. He placed his hands above the security panel for "L-S" and closed his eyes.

_3,4,48,42..._

"How do you know these codes?"

Jack jumped. Claire was standing above him.

"I just...remember them."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't question him as he quickly skimmed the last names. There weren't many, no more than half a dozen. But he couldn't help but to wonder who these other people were. Were they other survivors, like him? Or were they volunteers? Maybe they were even people from the outside world...

The door to the room opened and Jack jumped, planting his back against filing cabinets as Claire fell to the ground. Her eyes were wide as she stared straight ahead, not blinking. He closed his eyes tightly, wishing for them to reappear somewhere else...

Who knew, maybe he could teleport.

"Alright, Ms. Austen."

Jack's heart leapt so violently at the doctor's voice

that his mouth flew open, ready to let out a gasp of surprise. He quickly bit down on his lip, holding his face in his hands. Guilt washed over him. He could feel Claire's fear... There was a struggling and a gasp of pain from Kate. He winced.

"Did you ever talk to Jack about what he went through here?"

There was silence.

"Well don't worry. Right now we're only doing pre-experimental test."

Pre-experimental? Why did he tell her that? He didn't remember being told that...

"None of this will hurt, but there are a few questions I will have to ask you, which will require your full cooperation and honesty."

"Or what?" Kate's cold reply sent a chill up his spine. Don't fight back, he thought, please, it's not worth it... "You'll hit me if I don't tell you the truth about when I had the Chicken Pox?"

"No," the doctor snapped, "but we could put some drugs into a part of your system that does not need messing with and that, Ms. Austen, can result in some very bad consequences. So unless you want to risk having your arm cut off or half of your blood vessels frozen, I suggest that you tell the truth."

Jack wasn't listening. His eyes were closed; two of his fingers pressed against his forehead, forcing his mind into the strongest level of concentration.

"Oh..." the doctor's voice fell to surprise, "I'm afraid I'll have to postpone this interview. I'll be right back."

His footsteps ran away and Jack's eyes snapped open. He was breathing heavily and he was surprised Kate hadn't said something right then. Claire was staring at him, terrified. She knew what he did. Slowly he approached the end of the files and stood; Kate didn't notice him until he was standing straight, his hands in his pockets, trying to hide how out of place he felt.

"Jack," she breathed and looked down. The handcuffs holding her to the chair fell. She looked at him, eyes spinning with awe and concern. The next moment her arms were around his neck, her face buried into his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

She looked up at him, tears surfacing.

"Yeah," he said quickly, "I'm fine. Are you?"

"Yeah," she nodded. Then she frowned. "Claire?"

"Hey," Claire whispered. She still sounded stunned.

"Did they do anything to you? Did they-"

"No," Kate shook her head quickly and offered him a smile. But it faded as soon as it appeared and she looked away, obviously uncomfortable with what she was dealing with. Claire was still acting just the same.

Kate couldn't be alone. She wouldn't have secretly gone to look for him, only to stir up more panic. He also realized that she hadn't asked him why he was here, which was both relieving and painful.

"Who else is with you?"

"Charlie and Sayid."

"Charlie?" Claire spoke up, startled and afraid.

"Yeah," Kate said, looking at her, "he was okay, the last time I saw them."

"Where are they?" He asked as Claire's eyes began to fill with tears.

"I don't know," her face fell in frustration as she tried to concentrate, "it was some small room, almost like a cell. But the walls and ceiling were white, not like this, though. And there was a door, like in a normal building, but you could barely tell it was there. And I think I saw a blinking red light in one of the corners of the ceiling. I think."

"You did," Jack confirmed, "I know where they are." He placed a hand on her shoulder, ready to run that way. "You two run into the jungle, get as far away as possible, but we need to have a place to meet."

"The caves," Kate said.

"That's too far away."

"No, Sayid will know what I'm talking about."

He stared at her, confused, but decided to trust her. Every time he used his...abilities...he was there. He didn't know if he could keep them safe when he wasn't.

"Jack!"

The fear was obvious in her voice be he ignored her, trusting she would do as he said. Better yet...his eyes closed only briefly, and when he reopened them he was already half-way across their camp, adrenaline pushing through him, pointing him towards the building his noticed earlier. Jack looked over head, eyeing the couple of stories above him. He didn't know where to go...

Nevertheless his feet chased the stairs, climbing until he reached the door and shoved it open. He stormed through a concrete hallway, his hands brushing against every door as he ran past. He didn't know what to do. Should he trust that instinct would tell him where to go?

Then his eyes fell on a staircase. The upstairs was roped-off but the downstairs continued darkly, wrapping through a basement floor. Jack ran down the flight of stairs, entering immediately an identical hallway.

_He checked both corners of the hallway from the last door on the left and then stepped out. Juliet's hand was wrapped in his fingers as she allowed him to lead her down the hallway, running. Freedom breathed inside them. Confusing them, even. He didn't know where to go..._

He stood in front of the last door on the left, breathing harshly. There was a security panel on this door as well.

_4,8,26,9,33..._

He burst through the door and Sayid and Charlie immediately stood up. They stared at him, confused, and he didn't have the answers.

"Let's go," he said, waving his hand towards the hallway.

Within seconds of entering the floor he was back on the ground. Sayid and Charlie were already ahead of him, rushing out of the building when Jack found himself being slammed against the wall. Breath slipped from him as he stared in shock into the doctor's eyes. There was a syringe in his hands, but this one was more like a plastic gun. There was a tiny square on the end, like a computer chip but solid in a dark, dirty brown color.

"Seriously?" Dr. Campbell hissed, smiling. "Don't you think we have security cameras in that room?" The chip inched closure to his arm. Jack dove to the side to escape, but the doctor's fingers slapped his arm, grabbing onto him. "Remember the last drug I put into you? Remember what it did? Well this one's worse. It takes away your abilities and unless you come to me, unless you get this taken out, you can't get them back. And honestly Jack, as much as you hate them, do you really want to get rid of them?"

Jack's eyes closed, sweat pouring down them in a panic.

"So I'm making you an offer," Dr. Campbell said, "you stay with me, and your friends will be kept out of danger."

"I don't believe you."

"You stay with me, and your friends get off the island."

Anxiety rushed through him. He wanted so badly to take the deal, to accept the doctor's trust. But he couldn't. His goal from day one hadn't changed: getting everyone off the island. But the circumstances around him...he couldn't trust the doctor. There were too many risks, too many possibilities.

"Here's the thing, Jack," the doctor continued, annoyed now, "I never wanted anything to do with your friends. It's all you. You're the one I'm interested in."

"Why me?" Jack snapped. "What's interesting about me?"

When he crashed onto the island he considered his life so vacant that every wild turn the island drove him towards afterwards had him convinced he had fallen into some fantasy story. This couldn't be happening. He wasn't that important.

"Everything," the doctor grinned, "you see, we found a body that must have rolled out of your plane. A body that was dead before the crash, before he even got on a plane. He was in a body bag." Tears were appearing in his eyes, he could feel it as he burst with anger as the doctor talked about his father in such a casual way. "So we took him out, did an autopsy, and we found something. Something fantastic, something so scientifically impossible. It went along with every theory we ever had, of course, but this proof, this evidence, was priceless. We might as well have found an island of gold.

"Our only problem was the guy was dead. We could only study what had happened to him. We had know way of knowing if he was even aware of who he really was. And then...that's when Ethan came back with the names. Can you believe that the guy had a son and a daughter on the plane? And a soon-to-be grandson! I couldn't believe our luck. Our research had paid off. Everything we had ever hoped for...so we kidnapped the girl and her unborn baby, and we searched. We ran test, we did everything we could to look for the similarities, the genes. But we found nothing. So then we went back for his son." The doctor's smile grew, and Jack felt sick. He felt like the world was crashing around him...he was about to hear something that would make him more insane, more different, more disjointed from the world he longed to be apart of than ever. "You see, Jack, we ran many to match this guy's abilities."

"My father didn't-"

"Did you ever wonder why he was so good at saving people?" Jack froze. No...it was impossible. His father did a have a record of a saint when it came to surgeries- except, of course, the patients he killed. It couldn't be true. "Or why he was so dissatisfied with everyone else? Why you were never good enough for him? He must have thought of himself as a hero and he had every right too. Little did he know, his son was exactly the same. Little did his son know...

"What are you saying?"

He felt like he couldn't breathe. The world was becoming numb. The air was stiff, the doctor's words traveled to him in sharp, piercing tones. He didn't want to hear any of it. He wanted to get away. Why couldn't he escape?

"I'm saying that your father had an extraordinary power to do good in the world and this mass was so great that we discovered it to be genetic. We tested all three of his relatives and only one of them came back positive, naturally possessing this gift. The others we tried to do experiments on, tried to recreate what we needed, but this one...it was just perfect."

"But you never came back for Aaron or Claire."

"I know. We didn't need to."

The doctor smiled.

It was all the answers he needed.

It denied everything he thought about his captivity, about who he was. About his father, about his family. His heart was racing, his eyes were crazed with such a fear that it punctured the doctor's smile, increasing his grin even more...

This was because of the Others, because of what they did to him.

It was all him...

He really was crazy...

"Now Jack, back to what I was saying. You see, if you don't get this taken out all these powers are gone. Which I really don't want. And think of it, think of all you've been able to do. But I can let you go, and you can fight this island on your own, if you'd like."

"I'm not staying with you."

He shook his head and immediately pain shot through him. He closed his eyes, wishing for the millionth time to be able to leave, to escape. But nothing happened...

"Okay, then. You might be hearing from us soon, though."

His eyes opened and the doctor was gone. Jack looked down at his left arm. It was bursting in purple and red, with a messy, black stain from the chip. He couldn't see it inside him but he knew it was there. His arm even felt heavier...

Footsteps rushed into the hallway and he looked up. Sayid and Charlie were staring at him.

"Jack?" Sayid asked slowly. "We need to go, are you alright?"

He felt faint; sweat rushed over him, swimming over the bruises over his arm. He quickly hid them with his hand.

"Yeah."

His voice was small. He felt hollow as he followed Sayid and Charlie into the jungle, like the would had slipped beneath his feet. Everything was silent. He felt their eyes but ignored them. He only paid attention to how weak he felt with every step...

"Hey," he suddenly remembered something. They all stopped. "Kate said to meet us at the caves. She said you'd know what she was talking about."

Sayid looked at him curiously, as if wondering if he could handle the information, and then nodded. They kept walking and he kept pushing himself further, wanting to get as far away from their camp as possible.

--

"Are you alright?" Sayid repeated once the Others' camp disappeared far from view.

Behind them the land was engulfed with trees and a looming mixture of green; the pattern followed them as they walked, and Jack was forced to come to terms with not knowing where they were going.

"Yeah."

He hid his arm from view; his skin was covered from the bruises of an injection, of something puncturing his skin, living in his arm...

"These caves," he said, shaking away the thought, "how far from here are they?"

"Not far," Sayid replied.

"How do you know about them?"

He knew he wasn't the only one who had nine months worth of secrets, but he still couldn't get used to having secrets kept from him. He also knew what an unfair accusation that was.

"We quickly realized how long our journeys across the island and back were going to take," Sayid explained, "and we knew we'd need a place to stay. Or hide. One day we found the caves. It's hidden from view, sturdy."

"You mean it hasn't fallen on anyone's head?"

They both laughed, but the memory was more surreal than expected to him. The cave's collapse was just weeks from the plane crash. Now they were heading into years from then.

"We have some supplies there, but we didn't want to keep many in case They knew about it."

"Do They?"

"Not that we know of. They aren't as big as our camp but they're narrow, it's an excellent hiding space."

"Good."

They fell silent for the rest of the trip. Jack kept himself from repeating his questions, and no one offered him clues as to where they were going. He felt like someone threw him out in the open, exposed to the rest of the world. He might have recognized where Their camp was but he couldn't recognize the way back.

It felt like hours passed before Sayid came to a stop. He stood before what appeared to be just another spot of the jungle beside them, but when he stepped forward and looked more closely, he could just barely make out the mouth of the cave hidden between thick arms of trees. Drawing in a breath, Sayid knocked on the pale rock twice, paused, and then knocked three more times.

"A secret code?" Jack guessed.

"We were very cautious," Sayid replied.

Reaching up, he dove his hand into the mass of leaves and pulled them away, holding the branch aside as he and Charlie entered. Sayid was right, these caves weren't as large as their own branch. But narrow was spot on; the path towards the back of the caves was hardly three feet wide. Jack had to lower his head, though Charlie walked on with ease.

"Please tell me this gets taller," he said as Sayid appeared beside him.

Sayid grinned, but in the next second they had found the back of the caves. It was basically an oval, hidden in the jungle. Dark, damp, and then ceiling in the back was only a few feet over his head.

Kate and Claire were in there, resting uneasily by a waterfall that fell into a shallow pool and overflowed into cracks breaking the surface nearby. They didn't notice them at first, until Charlie said Claire's name, immediately grabbing her attention. They ran and met in a hug; he watched as Claire's eyes faded to a close over a tear.

"Jack?"

Kate stood, slowly, and they both approached each other cautiously. She looked relieved to see him but deeper there was a confusion, an awareness. She knew they did, the danger he put them in. Nevertheless she threw her arms around him, laughing silently.

"Are you okay?" She asked, breaking apart.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah," she nodded, and glanced at Sayid, who stood admiring the reunion, "do you want a hug too?"

Sayid laughed.

"I'm okay."

By now Charlie and Claire had broken apart, and Charlie was suddenly glaring at him, furious. Kate was even close to mirroring him, staring at him as though she expected him to explain. He couldn't find the words...

"Where were you two even there?" She demanded. "You just left, in the middle of the night?"

"We didn't-"

"There was no sign of a struggle!" She exclaimed, cutting him off. "Your bags were missing. We found footsteps leading from your tent to where we found you ran away from them!"

Lying to her again was impossible. He tried to answer her, but fell silent each time. Everyone was staring at him, accusing him. He looked to Claire for help, though he couldn't bring himself to fully put the blame on her.

"It was me," she spoke up; she swallowed. Her eyes locked into his, her gaze never shifting even as everyone turned to her. "I asked him to go."

"Why?" Charlie said; his voice wavered. He didn't believe her.

"I heard about some of the things that happened to him," Claire admitted, her voice full of fright, "he told me they had a file on him, so I thought maybe they'd have one on me too. I was worried that some of the same things that happened to him happened to me and maybe that they were affected Aaron. I mean, how am I even supposed to know if something's wrong with him?"

"But you remember everything from your captivity," Sayid pointed out.

Claire shook her head.

"Not everything," she confessed and trailed off.

He understood...he understood her better than ever then. They went through almost the same thing, they were connected by it. And they were related...she was right, it all had to mean something. It made since, even though he didn't like. He still didn't want it to be true. But he understood her, and he felt closer to her then; he also knew that she was one of the only people he knew who could truly understood him and what he went through.

She swallowed again but didn't continued, her mouth shut in fear of revealing more. But Kate stepped forwards; her eyes shot towards him.

"But why did you go?" She demanded. "Juliet said that you would never go back there- I know you'd never go back there for anything."

"Obviously not."

Kate ignored Charlie's interruption.

"So why'd you do it? Why did you put your lives in danger? Our lives?" He continued to ignored her, hoping that this time, like all others, she'd simply storm away and leave it alone. But he could see the anger, the frustration burning within her. She was trying to put a stop to the lies, here and now. "They held us captive Jack and I don't even want to know what they were going to do to us. We deserve to know why!"

"Because they're related."

Their eyes snapped to Charlie. Jack knew Claire's face must have mirrored his; horror washed over him. Sickness, dread. There was no turning back, and he hadn't even chosen to be here. Charlie's eyes were dark, serious, enough to make Sayid and Kate believe him.

"What?" Kate asked, turning back to him.

Jack looked away. He didn't want Charlie to be the one to say it. Eyes closed, his hands fist, he prepared himself, knowing it was his responsibility to admit to it all. He snapped back towards them, his eyes locked on the floor.

"Claire's my sister."

He could feel the shock rip through them, and Jack looked up, slightly hopeful that they'd understand...but of course with answers came more questions. Kate's eyes were spinning, like she was watching a dramatic cliffhanger come to life.

"What?"

Kate's mouth was hanging open, but Sayid beat her to it.

"Is this true?" Sayid said, stepping slightly in front of him, as though searching for the truth in his eyes.

"Yeah," he muttered.

"You knew all this time?" Kate said. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because we just found out," Jack explained, his eyes still trailing the ground. He wanted to run away, to leave it alone and act like the confession never happened. "It was in my file. She's my half-sister, technically. Same father."

"And your just going to trust their word?" Sayid inquired incredulously.

"Don't you think we thought through it?" Jack shot, glaring at him. His eyes flashed around the room, looking at them each in turn. He felt like he was looking at completely different people. Claire was simply frozen, horrified, hoping that no one would ask her to speak. Kate just looked shocked. But not betrayed... "It's true. She's my sister."

He spun around, heading back towards the entrance of the caves. He heard Kate following him, and he wasn't surprised to see her stunned eyes peering out of the mouth of the cave as he rested against a tree nearby. He closed his eyes, bringing a hand to his head. Suddenly his head was pounding, and he could feel sweat swimming over his face. And he felt cold...

"It's true?"

He sighed.

"Yes."

His eyes opened, meeting hers reluctantly. Now she looked less afraid and more in awe, like she had just discovered something priceless. He glared at her coldly, immune to her happiness.

"Then this is good, right?" She said. "You have family here."

"Yeah, except for the part where after my father has an affair with her mother she throws him out and then my mom leaves."

"Oh." She paused and he looked away; he wasn't asking for her sympathy. "You blame yourselves?"

"No," he replied coldly, "she blames me and I blame her."

"That's not fair," Kate insisted, "it's not your fault, either of you."

"Actually, it is."

"Jack-"

He turned and considered taking the path back to the camp. He could find his own way back, he didn't need their protection- only he knew that was wishful thinking. It would be suicidal to leave. He was stuck here, and it was all becoming symbolic. They were going to force him to deal with this.

"I need to talk to Claire," he said.

Pushing Kate inside he headed back into the caves, but when he reached the back he saw that Charlie was already in a conversation with Claire- or at least trying to get him to talk. Her eyes were pinned to the ground and his looked up as Jack entered, cold, warning him to stay away. Sighing, Jack instead walked to one of the cave walls and sat down, leaning his head against the cave wall. Exhaustion was draining every ounce of energy he had left and soon it was dark...

Too dark. He tried to open his eyes but he couldn't. Voices were floating nearby.

"Ja-"

"Should...wake...now..."

"Fever."

"Ja-"

"Jack?"

Suddenly the voices made since as he heard Kate; it felt like she was right next to him, speaking into his ear with the deepest concern, trying not to reveal how afraid she was. He felt her hand on his arm and he tried to reach up to her but he couldn't. He tried to open his mouth, but he couldn't. He couldn't answer them. He was trapped.


	30. From The Outside Looking In

Life Interrupted

Chapter Thirty

**Author's Note:** By the way, Ben is officially Ben in my story. I like him better that way.

**Chapter Thirty: **From the Outside Looking In

From the cracks above them water dripped, seeping through the tiny holes in the cave wall and falling down, down, down until each one of them collapsed onto the ground with a bang. With the sound echoing around them their eyes were glued on Jack, who was still unconscious on the ground, wondering what would happened next.

Everything happened so suddenly. Jack used to deal with this everyday, people's bodies just failing, everything changing in the course of a second. She couldn't stand it, seeing him so silent, so still. It was too surreal, waiting there with Charlie, Claire, and Sayid to see what would happen next. It was like the world stopped to focus on that moment. And they had no idea what to do.

They just stared at him, like suddenly he would be up again.

"One of us should go back to camp," Charlie suggested quietly, "maybe someone we'll recognize the symptoms."

"Like who?" Kate shot. She shook her head. "He just...collapsed."

"He should be waking up by now," Sayid added.

Back turned to them, her face was hidden as tears filled her eyes. She knelt down beside Jack, feeling a gust of nerves hit her, almost terrifying her enough to run.

"Jack," she said softly. And then again, more loudly: "Jack."

There was nothing.

"Wait!"

Their eyes shot to Claire. For the first time Kate noticed how exhausted she looked; how afraid. It was her brother laying there, she remembered. Now Claire was staring at him, her eyes wide, determined.

"His hand twitched," Claire explained.

"What?"

Kate looked back to Jack. She would have noticed...

But she had been watching him, waiting for his eyes to open, for him to say something.

"Jack," she said again.

Her eyes were glued to his hand, just inches from hers. His fingers looked like they were nailed to the floor, cold and stiff. But ever so slightly a finger lifted, not even an inch, but there was movement. A reaction. Kate gasped with relief; a smile broke through her tears.

"He can hear us," she said quietly.

"Then why isn't he answering?" Sayid appeared opposite of Jack, looking more startled and concerned than he had before.

And he was right, she realized. Jack couldn't answer them, and he knew he couldn't. He was trapped...

"What would shut him down like that?" She asked

Sayid shook his head. He glanced at Jack; it was like he was worried he was listening into their conversation. He placed a hand over her shoulder and led her to the mouth of the cave.

"If he can hear us, we can't let him know that we don't know what to do."

His voice was low, and frighteningly serious. Kate nodded. She crossed her arms; she was shivering slightly, and looked over to Jack. He knew exactly what was going on, she thought. He might even know what was wrong...

As she went back towards him the awkwardness of the situation set in. What if he was hearing everything that was going on? He would know how terrified she was, how helpless. Sitting down beside him she let her hand slide towards his fingers, but hesitated before she let them connect.

"Jack?" She asked quietly. "Can you talk?" There was no answer. Her heart began pounding... "Can you understand me?" A finger raised slightly in the air and fell again. "Can you open your eyes?"

No response.

She felt sick. Her fingers ran through her hair, bringing back strings of sweat. It had gotten hotter, she thought, so humid it felt like the air was digging through her neck...

She stood and walked back to Sayid.

"We have to help him," she announced.

"I know." He away for a moment, considering something. She watched him, seeing as a realization crossed over his eyes. "After he rescued us he was delayed from meeting us back in the jungle. They must have done something to him then."

Eyes dark and narrowing, Sayid stepped towards Jack, studying. Kate knelt down beside him, scanning his arms. Her fingers traced faded scars, and other than having lost some of its color his arm looked fine. She took his other hand, and immediately stopped. How did she miss it?

"Sayid."

He appeared beside her and their eyes met. Slowly they looked down, and they were all looking at the thick bruise buried into Jack's left arm.

"They put something into him," Sayid said.

"How?"

Charlie looked between the two, confused; Claire just stood there, wide eyed and terrified. Kate ran a hand through her hair, thinking...

"What was it?" Charlie continued.

"I don't know," Sayid replied.

They looked away, their eyes trailing the floor. Neither wanted to admit what had to be done...but she would rather it be her than any of them. She looked up slowly, her voice only a whisper.

"I'll go." Tears filled her eyes as she looked to Jack; she wiped them away.

"What?" Charlie spoke up. He stepped closer to them. "Go where?"

Sayid was glaring at her.

"She wants to go back to the Others."

"What?" Charlie demanded.

"This is something they did to him!" Kate exclaimed. "Of course I have to go back. We're never going to know what happened to him unless we find out from them."

"Kate..." Sayid took her arm and led her back towards the mouth of the cave.

"I have to go," she insisted before he could argue.

"He wouldn't want you to put yourself in danger like that."

"But he would do the same for me!"

She was crying; she felt sick. She was embarrassed..she was used to never crying in front of anyone. Turning away, Kate ran a hand through her hair. She didn't have to listen to them. If they weren't going, she had to. Her feet began carrying her out of the cave, back towards the forest, away from them...

There were never any protest.

It took longer to get back to Their camp than from what she remembered But the path was all too familiar to her, etched in her mind perfectly, like taking the path from her house into town. The entire way there tears stained her cheeks; she stumbled, losing her balance as her mind wondered. What if Jack woke up while she was gone? What if bringing the doctor there trapped them?

And what if it saved his life?

"Can I help you?"

Her heart leapt through her through; a gasp of surprise escaped as she fell backwards a step. She was already there. Kate looked to her left, and through the trees she could make out the basic structures of Their buildings.

And standing in front of them was Their doctor- Campbell, she was sure Jack had called him. A smile wondered onto his face; he knew why she was here.

"We have defenses, you know," he went on, "you can't just walk in here. But then again, I really don't see why you would want to. You did just escape from here, right?" She didn't answer. She was too shocked, too afraid. Suddenly she had no idea what she was doing here. His smile grew, and she shuddered. "Are you lost?"

Kate cleared her throat, fighting to stay calm.

"What did you do to him?" She asked quietly. He just stared at her, not understanding. "Jack's sick. You put something in him before he left. What was it?"

"Even if you knew you wouldn't understand."

"What did you do to him?" She shouted.

She was shaking. They would hear her, his people, and come after her.

The doctor looked down, his smile erased.

"Did Jack tell you what we talked about?" He asked carefully. "After he rescued you?"

She shook her head, but it felt like someone was controlling her. There wasn't time for this...and yet she wanted to listen. She wanted to know. Jack had been keeping too many secrets, and this man could tell her everything. Was it wrong to be curious?

It was wrong, she thought, because she wouldn't understand...and he didn't want her to know.

"I told him that if he stayed with us than all of you could leave the island."

She froze. She hadn't even thought of rescue for so long...it had all turned to a fight for survival. But hearing the words, being reminded that going home was still possible...she hated herself for listening.

"He didn't take the offer," the doctor continued. And smiled.

"Good," Kate replied.

Honestly. Jack didn't trust Them, and he definitely wouldn't want his life in Their hands. How could she ask him to do that? How could any of them? She wouldn't have been able to handle it. She would have gone home, and the rest of her life would have been spent trying to figure out how to get him back. Worrying about him, being terrified for him. It wasn't a fair trade. And she was honestly relieved that he didn't think so either.

Even though she couldn't help but to think: Jack had always been willing to do anything for the benefit and safety of his people. To know that he turned down this offer and the chance to safe them all, it told her how afraid he was. How truly, honestly terrified he was.

Dr. Campbell smiled: curious, confused, and changed the subject as quickly as he could.

"So what are his symptoms?" He asked.

He began walking away, back towards Their camp. Fear rushed through her; her heart pounded with terror. She didn't want to go, deep down. She followed, only because she knew that he would be able to help. She cleared her throat again and replied:

"He's unconscious, but when we speak to him he'll react. He'll move a finger, barely lift a hand, like he can hear us. Like he's trapped."

The doctor nodded.

"Is he running a fever?"

"He's burning up. And pale." She stopped. "And there's bruises on his arm from something you put in him. Recently." He didn't look at her, but his face actually showed traces of...guilt?

He kept walking, and she followed.

Feet chasing the trail back to the caves, Kate felt the anticipation, the desperation of needing to help him as they rushed towards the entrance.

Sayid was standing in the opening. She stopped, the doctor behind her, glaring.

"I'm here to help," he announced.

"I don't care."

His eyes shifted to hers, cold and piercing. She was taken aback by how quickly he could turn against her and how little he understood.

"He's here to help," she insisted, "I promise. I've got it under control."

"And how are you going to keep control when his people turn up?" Sayid snapped, his eyes flashing with anger and tinted with disappointment, "we keep walking into their hands!"

"We don't have time for this," Dr. Campbell muttered.

He pushed Sayid aside, only to be pulled back and slammed against the wall.

"Did you check him for weapons?" Sayid demanded.

"Yes."

"Was he being followed?"

"No, I promise you."

Had it not been such a critical situation she would have take more precautions, fake routes and turns, but honestly she wasn't even one hundred percent sure they weren't followed. Her eyes landed on Jack, still and silent on the floor a few feet from them. Sayid's grip loosened and the doctor rushed to Jack, taking off the pack he brought with him. He fished out a syringe and a bottle of orange liquid.

"What is that?" Kate asked.

"It will deteriorate what's inside of him."

"What's inside of him?" Sayid asked.

Arms crossed, his shadow appeared over him. The doctor looked up; his eyes flashed in annoyance.

"It doesn't matter anymore," he said, and turned back to Jack.

He positioned the syringe above Jack's arm, the needle resting on his skin. Kate closed her eyes, looking away. When she opened them again the doctor was pulling the syringe back and storing it away.

"How long will it be until it takes affect?"

The doctor shrugged.

"I don't know."

He stood, casually, and Kate realized he was meaning to leave. Kate got to her feet; Sayid's eyes narrowed as he too realized what was happening.

"You're just leaving?" Kate demanded.

"That's all there was to do," the doctor replied. He looked around, amusement glimmering in his eyes as they turned to each of them in turn. "What, it's not like you want me sticking around."

Kate turned to Sayid.

"Do you want me to follow him back to his camp?"

Part of her hoped he'd say no.

"No."

The air fell silent. Outside the ground crunched as the doctor fled back to his camp; Sayid stared after him, and in his eyes she saw the burning guilt for letting him go.

Her eyes wondered back to Jack. She was counting the seconds, her heart pounding faster with every beat, to when he would wake up- how long had it been now? Shouldn't it have taken effect?

Or maybe they shouldn't have trusted him...

And it would be all her fault.

----

From out of nowhere air shot through him, like someone plugged something into his brain that made it suddenly shoot out electricity; life. His own gasps filled the room, his eyes widened and then shut...he was brought back but he could still feel it. Jack thought it felt like bricks were pinning him to the ground, but when he looked it was only his arms, tightened by an imaginary hand and holding him to the ground. His eyes dropped to a close, exhausted and blurry. His head spun. A flaming liquid burned through his throat and burst against the corners of his mouth. Swallowing hard, he forced it away. Nausea remained, and he rest for a moment, his heart rate slowly falling back into a normal pace.

But he had to force himself to open his eyes. He had to know what was going on.

Kate's eyes met his: relieved, wet with tears. She wiped them away and grabbed his hand, a smile breaking through. Another wave of energy rushed through him at her touch, and he could feel the bug inside him dying- whatever it was.

"What did he put in me?" He said, and swallowed; his throat felt like sandpaper.

"It was some kind of orange liquid," Kate explained, her eyes wondering to the floor, "he said it would dissolve what was in you."

"Orange?" Jack repeated.

Kate nodded.

Suddenly he felt sick again.

He slapped his hand against the floor; Kate jumped.

"That wasn't what that was..."

Eyes closed, he put them in the dark, realizing he said to much.

"We should be going," Sayid announced. "Just because they didn't follow us doesn't mean they can't pick up our trail."

He looked at Kate, her eyes deepening with disapproval.

"No!" She exclaimed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "We still don't even know what's wrong with him."

"Nothing now."

Kate jumped as she saw him try to sit up and immediately grabbed his arm.

"I promise," he said, meeting her eyes, "I'm okay. He's right, we should get going."

His eyes trailed around the room, connecting with each of theirs. They were confused, worried. The cave was so silent, absent of the chaos of their own camp. It was their hideout, he remembered, and was hit with the uneasy filling of realizing he didn't know where he was.

"Claire and I left in the middle of the night," he began, "so that would make now-"

"Mid-morning," Sayid replied.

Kate watched him skeptically, and he knew she didn't trust him. But all he wanted to do was to get as far away from the Others as possible. What the doctor told him...it couldn't be true. And he didn't want to be anywhere near a world where it was. He got to his feet again; Kate reached up to help him, but she looked like he hurt he. Though he didn't know how...

Her eyes snapped away.

"Let's go then," she muttered, and walked away.

----

The trek back was completely silent, even more so than the caves. He followed quietly as they led him back to camp through unfamiliar trails. Kate walked only a few paces ahead of him, stiff and cautious, as though she were holding back something she wanted to say. He had a feeling they all were. Claire hadn't spoken to him since leaving the Others' camp, and he decided to wait on telling her what the doctor told him.

Truth was, Claire had nothing to worry about. It was him- he was the one who actually had something wrong with him. Aaron was perfectly fine, which he knew was for the best. But before he always had the idea in the back of his mind that someday with would all be over- that it didn't really mean anything if he didn't want it to be. Now it was apart of him.

Or was...

He didn't know what to think. It was too coincidental, falling ill like that after the doctor claimed the drug would rid him of his abilities. The sensation felt like all his energy had been ripped from him, like suddenly there was nothing there inside him to fall back on, to support him. It left him wondering if he really was this weak, if the doctor was right: everything he had ever accomplished had been because of what he was.

He watched Kate as she marched down the path, eyes glued to the ground, and wondered what she would think if he told her. They were all different from who they were before the crash but for him it felt like he was living a completely different life. He tried to see his life from the outside looking in and all he saw was insanity...how could any of this even be real? And yet she risked her life for him, again and again. She saw something in him that he didn't understand, and she had patience that he couldn't comprehend.

"Thanks." He realized he never said it, and surpassed her as well as she looked back at him. "For going in there for me."

"Which time?" She said, smiling. "I thought you'd yell at me."

"Don't complain," he laughed, "no, it's just...you have know idea who you're dealing with."

"I know what they did to you-"

"You don't know the half of it."

His eyes darted to the ground, narrowly avoiding hers like a car swerving to escape a head-on collision

"Maybe that's because you waited nearly a month to even tell me why they held you captive."

"Yeah, well you still haven't told me while you were being transported back to the States by a U.S. Marshall."

Immediately he shattered at the attack, seeing the surprise and hurt washing over her. Shoulders sinking, her eyes roamed the ground, embarrassed, wounded.

"Look," he sighed, "I just really don't want you to get hurt from this."

"You're not invincible, Jack," Kate snapped, "so stop thinking that you can risk your life for me but not the other way around."

_The air was wet and the sky was muggy, hanging low in the wake of an upcoming storm. But Ben kept leading him further and further away from the barracks, never stopping, never offering a clue as to where they were going. He couldn't remember the path from their trek to the barracks, all those months ago. It was too long ago...just the feeling of being back in the jungle, of not being surrounded by barriers and guards, was unreal. He would have ran had it not been for the gun waited to be called upon, resting at Ben's waist, or the fear that they had been followed by his people; of the monster, of having no idea where he was and being even more helplessly lost than he already was..._

_But the castaways had been searching for him. If they could find him out here...he had been thinking that anything would be better than the position he was trapped in._

The memory came so quickly it startled him. He was stopped and Kate was staring at him, waiting for an explanation. The others were already too far ahead; they were alone, and it was only the quiet jungle around them. But he felt as though he'd just been ripped away from an alternate reality.

"I've been here before," he whispered, and began studying the ground.

He could see it in his head, the path he and Ben took that day. He began following the turns; distantly he heard Kate's footsteps scraping the path, hurrying to keep up. As they ran deeper into the forest it got darker, despite the sun peeking out of the clouds above.

Then the smell came: a stench that was enough to nearly send them stumbling backwards in shock; Kate's hand flew to her face to cover her mouth and nose but he crept forward, spotting the break in the trees ahead. He ran through to the clearing, and stopped, almost falling forward.

They were standing in front of a massive grave. Dozens of skeletons lay scattered before them, bathing in the glow of the sun. Thrown on top of each other, some torn in pieces...he might have felt sick if the feeling of deejay hadn't hit him, reminding him that he'd seen this before, to not be so startled.

"Ben brought me here," he explained quietly.

Kate looked pale, but her eyes shifted to him, curious.

"These were his people," he continued, remembering as he spoke, "he killed them."

"What?"

His heart raced as he remembered the brief story, leaving him with just enough information to terrify him into never defying the Others, never even thinking of starting some kind of war between them and the castaways-

"He murdered them."

Kate's hand touched his back gently; she looked away but he only stared, eyes crazed with the horror of the memory.

"He was here long before the people he's with now," Jack realized, "and they were here long before them. People have been on this island for centuries, decades..."

"The doctor told me that he made you an offer to get us off the island," she admitted quietly.

Now he felt sick. He never wanted her to know.

"I'm glad you told him no."

Kate looked up at them, and he tore his eyes away from the grave; his gaze found its way towards her stare. She wasn't angry, or at least not at him.

"They can't be trusted."

That was most of the reason. Kate looked down quickly, catching his lie but not wanting to mention it.

"I know."

He turned away from the grave, holding his head in his hands.

"It's just..." he began, and took a deep breath, "I just think about how long they've been here and I wonder if we'll be here just as long. I wonder how long we're going to have to deal with this."

Her hand fell onto his shoulder; he didn't look up as she said quietly:

"We'll be okay." She paused, as though considering something she had been debating to say to him for awhile. She drew a quick breath, then added quickly: "you just need to stop being so afraid all the time.

He turned to her and laughed.

"How can I not be?"

Head shaking, Kate looked at him with pity, but he couldn't understand what she was trying to get him to see.

"You're scaring them," she explained, "you don't realize it, but every time you run off, every time you even look uncertain about going on, they worry about what will happen. You used to be their leader, Jack, and there's still apart of them that's been holding onto that trust."

"Yeah, a very small part of them."

"They don't look up to anyone else nearly as confidently as they looked up to you," Kate replied, a half-smile plastered onto her face.

"What are you suggesting?"

Their eyes met, hers glowing, but she only smiled and looked away.

"You should just start giving them hope that we're not going to be there as long as them." She nodded to the skeletons resting in the grave.

The sky churned and a low grumble echoed back to Earth; they looked up just as rain began splashing onto their faces. He thought of Claire and Aaron, somewhere in the woods ahead of them. They would have to find somewhere to rest- not an hour into their journey. Jack sighed, and muttered:

"Typical."

----

When they met up with the rest Sayid led them to a shed that built into the jungle. As Sayid forced the door open the hinges squealed, kicking back mud until the opening was wide enough for them to step through. 'Quarantine' jumped at him from the back of the door: the same message as on the Swan. Sayid held out his hand to stop them before they could go any further.

"Looks like someone's been here since Ana-Louisa"

He nodded towards a collection of what looked like an overturn garbage can- cans of Dharma soup and bags of chips, bottles of prescription pills, and crumpled sheets of yellow-stained paper. He tried to imagine Ana being there, leading her group of people as he led his but going through more than they could have ever imagined. They were even now, he thought.

Kate looked at him oddly, while the others pretend they didn't notice. He was going to ask her what was wrong but then Claire began pacing the floor, bouncing Aaron in her arms, crossing right through where the trash had been. None of it was even there.

"We'll stay here as long as we need."

Jack looked up at Sayid's voice and saw his hand on Claire's arm. She nodded, but looked just as unconvinced as the rest at his promise. They couldn't stay very long without food, especially not with Aaron. Rainstorms on the island lasted everywhere from five minutes to hours.

On cue, the baby began to cry.

The room shone with dim light; Sayid found a lantern.

Jack examined the station. At least three feet wide the familiar template for the symbol featured an Arrow this time. Jack looked around. The building looked like a storage place. There weren't even dead lights along the ceiling or furniture left over from the past.

"What do you think this place was?" Kate asked him.

He shrugged.

"Another one of their testing centers."

Staring harshly at the floor, Kate didn't reply. The room was silent, so that they could hear the rain pounding outside.

The shed only contained the single room they were in along with a walkway from the door. Charlie was going through a chest stashed in the corner; from the looks of it he wasn't having much luck. A Bible and a radio, Jack remembered. Ana brought those back from this station.

A jab of pain struck his chest as he thought of her. She was young; younger than he was. She was a cop, but no one hardly shed two tears at her funeral. The situation she was thrown in was way too far over her head for her to deal with alone, but she grasped onto the initial instinct to step in and offer whatever she could, just like he had. She wanted to be in control, to have some control over what was happening to him. They were alike in so many ways while everyone else seemed to be completely out of their circle of understanding.

At one time he even thought he liked her. He tried seeing past the coldness everyone else saw and her and found someone rather human, rather understandable in the situation they were in.

But the simple fact was that he found that he felt more strongly for Kate. Ana knew this. He knew it, though it took him nearly two months to act on those feelings.

Sighing, he looked around. There was nothing he could do about it now. It was all on Kate. He'd waited to long.

Another one of his biggest mistakes he made on this island.

-----

As they neared the camp the sun was high above them, and the air was thick. It was like walking through a heavy mist. He looked to Sayid, who made eye contact. He knew it too. The ground was damp from the rainstorm and immediately his shoes were soaked through the soaks from wet grass and thick mud.

Aaron was calm, at least. Claire still held him carefully in her arms, taking every step with extra caution and hesitating before going down any kind of uncertain terrain. The boy was older now, though, almost to big to be held by his mother.

"What?" Kate asked him.

He turned to her.

"Huh?"

"You were smiling," she said with her own grin.

Jack shook his head. Kate laughed, looking away. Immediately her face fell to horror, her eyes narrowing heavily.

"Jack!" She called, terrified, as she rushed forward.

He followed, noticing the sand that peeked out beneath the forest floor. They were there.

And on the ground, unconscious, at the beach-line were Sawyer and Juliet, his hand just inches from her. Face down and pale they looked startling stiff...

Kate was already calling his name as she rushed to Sawyer's side, eyes already moist. He fell to the ground beside her, checking his pulse and Juliet's. He sighed in relief, his stomach loosened just slightly.

"They're alive," he announced.

"Jack," Sayid called gravely

He'd run ahead of them, and Jack found him standing at the edge of the beach, eyes scanning the rest of the camp.

Everyone was on the ground in defeated lumps. The air was deathly silent while the waves crashed violently to the shore. His stomach churned painfully, his throat felt sour like he was going to be sick...

"Whoever did this couldn't have gotten far," Sayid, "in fact, they were probably close by when they attacked..."

Sayid turned and began chasing his instinct into the jungle; Jack began following. Sayid turned around, shaking his head.

"No, you stay here and help your people."

_Your people._

He was supposed to be responsible for them again when he didn't even know if they trusted him. Or if he still trusted himself...

"Jack!"

He jumped at Kate's voice, which echoed sharply across the beach and pounded against the waves. Around him he began hearing strangled coughs, almost like an entire group of people were choking. Heads began to raise, eyes looking weary and confused.

Each one landed on him.

**Author's Note: **I told you I would update again! It just...takes awhile. I'm sooo sorry! With work and school it's a chaotic life, and I've been trying my best to come up with ways to continue the story and finish the chapter. Luckily I finally did and I hope you enjoyed reading. Thanks so much to any of you who have kept reading despite my horrible update habits. I try my best, I promise!

Until next time...

October Sky


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